Mercer looked at my father, his eyes filled with a mixture of rage and sudden realization.

“You,” Mercer spat, staring at the man he had thought was just a quiet gardener.

My father did not even look at him.

His attention was entirely focused on the small screen in his palm.

The scrolling numbers suddenly stopped.

A single line of text appeared in their place.

“It’s a remote wipe protocol,” Colonel Ward said, his face hardening as he read the screen.

“They are erasing the servers in the basement,” my father said.

“Can we stop it?” I asked, thinking of the financial records that proved their crimes.

If those files disappeared, everything we had done tonight would be for nothing.

My husband’s abuse, the millions they stole, the bribes—all of it would vanish into thin air.

“We need a physical bypass,” my father said, turning toward the mansion.

“Arthur, wait,” Colonel Ward said, reaching out to stop him. “My team hasn’t cleared the basement yet.”

“There is no time, Samuel,” my father said.

He began to walk toward the terrace doors, his stride long and purposeful.