“A very reasonable man,” Salvatore said, leaning back in his chair. “He understands the value of a retirement fund.”

I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead.

They were admitting to everything, their voices clear and distinct on the recording.

But my mind was not on the judges or the prosecutors.

I was looking at the corner of the screen, where a shadow moved in the reflection of the library window.

There was someone else in the room.

Suddenly, the camera angle shifted violently as Adrian was grabbed from behind.

“You really thought we didn’t know about the wire, Adrian?” Salvatore’s voice was suddenly much louder, much closer.

The screen flickered, the feed from Adrian’s collar camera cutting to black.

Only the audio remained, filled with the sound of a struggle and a heavy thud.

“Adrian!” I screamed, lunging toward the console.

Isabella grabbed my arm, her grip iron-clad.

“Wait, Maya,” she said, her eyes fixed on the remaining data lines. “The watch transmitter is still active.”

Over the speaker, we heard Adrian gasping for air.