Chapter 205.

The conference room was silent.

Five people sat around the long mahogany table. Five members of Blackwood University’s board.

And at the head of the table sat the one person they had never expected to see there.

Adrian.

He sat with his back against the leather chair, with one hand resting loosely on the armrest. His expression was unreadable.

A black folder lay in front of him, and another rested beside it. Neither had been opened.

The five board members kept looking at him. They couldn’t hide their suprise, considering they had him interviewed about a month ago.

The oldest man in the room finally cleared his throat.

"Professor Ashford."

Adrian’s eyes lifted.

"Or should I say, ex-professor." The man forced a smile. "I’m still trying to understand why you called this meeting."

Adrian said nothing.

The man shifted uncomfortably.

Beside him, a woman in her late fifties crossed her arms. "This is highly irregular."

Adrian’s gaze moved toward her. "Is it?"

She frowned. "Yes."

"Then you should be familiar with irregularities."

The woman stared at him.

Adrian reached for the black folder. He opened it with no urgency. Just deliberate movements.

He removed five sheets of paper, and placed one in front of each person. The papers landed softly against the polished wood.

Nobody touched them.

Adrian leaned back. "Read them."

The five board members exchanged glances.

The oldest man picked up his paper. His eyes moved across the page, then stopped. The color drained from his face.

Adrian watched him. "You recognize the account?"

The man didn’t answer.

Adrian’s gaze shifted to the woman beside him. "You recognize yours?"

Her fingers tightened around the paper. She looked up sharply. "What is this?"

"You tell me."

"This is ridiculous."

"Is it?" Adrian picked up another document. "This is a transfer made six years ago."

He placed it on the table. "Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars."

The woman’s face tightened.

Adrian continued.

"Transferred from an offshore account belonging to one of the companies Dante Gomez used to move the Belmont company funds."

The room became still.

A younger board member leaned forward. "You don’t know what you’re talking about."

Adrian looked at him. "I know exactly what I’m talking about."

He slid another page across the table. "This one is yours."

The man looked down.

His mouth opened slightly.

Adrian didn’t stop. "Three hundred and forty thousand."

He turned another page.

"Four hundred and twelve thousand."

He turned another page.

"One hundred and ninety thousand."

The only sound in the room was the quiet hum of the air-conditioning.

The woman stared at the documents. "This could mean anything."

Adrian’s eyes settled on her.

"It means money was moved from an account controlled by Dante."

She swallowed. "And?"

"And it landed in your account."

She looked away.

Adrian leaned forward. "You don’t have to explain it to me."

The oldest board member finally placed the paper down. "You have no right to accuse us of anything."

Adrian’s expression didn’t change. "I didn’t accuse you." He tapped the document. "I showed you."

The man’s jaw tightened. "You’ve been investigating us."

"I’ve been investigating Dante." Adrian’s voice remained calm. "You happened to be standing in the way."

One of them scoffed. "This is absurd."

Adrian looked at him. "You’re right."

The man’s eyebrows lifted.

"This entire situation is absurd." Adrian closed the folder. "For years, five people sat on a board and watched money disappear."

Nobody moved.

"You watched scholarships disappear." His voice remained quiet. "You watched departments lose funding."

The younger board member shook his head. "You don’t know what happened."

"I know enough." Adrian’s eyes hardened. "And now I know exactly who benefited from my companies."

The woman pushed the paper away. "You can’t use this against us."

Adrian’s gaze dropped to the paper. Then returned to her.

"Why?"

"Because those transfers don’t prove we knew where the money came from."

Adrian smiled faintly. It was barely a smile at all. "Ah!" He exhaled with all the time in the world. "That’s why I brought the second folder."

The woman froze.

Adrian placed his hand on it. "This one contains correspondence."

"Emails." He opened the folder. "Messages." He opened another page. "Meeting records."

He opened another page. "Private notes." He looked at them. "And photographs."

The youngest board member’s face changed.

Adrian noticed. "You remember the photographs? The one you used against me about a month ago?"

The man swallowed.

Adrian leaned back. "You should."

The man looked down.

The oldest man stared at him.

Adrian’s expression remained cold.

The woman whispered, "That’s impossible."

Adrian shook his head. "What’s impossible is that you believed no one would ever find out."

Nobody answered.

Adrian picked up another sheet. "This is a copy of the original ledger." He placed it on the table. "Your names appear on it."

He pointed at the first. "Yours."

Then the second. "Yours."

Then the third. "Yours."

The fourth. "Yours."

And finally the fifth. "And yours."

His finger rested against the page. "You were not random recipients."

The oldest man stared at the ledger.

"You were listed as beneficiaries."

The word seemed to settle over the room.

Beneficiaries. The five exchanged uneasy glances.

One of them finally spoke. "What exactly do you want us to do with this?"

Adrian turned to him.

The man swallowed. "You can’t arrest us."

Adrian’s expression remained completely blank. "Who said anything about arresting any of you?"

The man’s face tightened.

Adrian closed the folder. "I didn’t bring you here to arrest you."

"Then why are we here?"

Adrian stood.

The chair moved softly behind him.

He buttoned his jacket. "You’re here because I wanted you to understand something."

He walked slowly around the table.

The board members watched him.

Adrian stopped behind the oldest man’s chair.

"You spent years believing the only thing that mattered was whether someone could prove what you did."

The man stiffened.

"You were wrong." Adrian moved on. "You forgot something." He stopped beside the woman. "People don’t always need a courtroom to lose everything."

Her eyes widened.

Adrian continued walking. "A board seat can disappear." He placed one hand against the back of the chair. "A reputation can disappear."

He took another step.

"A career can disappear." He stopped at the end of the table. "And so can a future."

The youngest board member stared at him. "Are you threatening us?"

Adrian looked directly at him. "I’m giving you a choice."

The man frowned. "What choice?"

Adrian walked back to the head of the table. He picked up the five documents. "You will cooperate with my investigation. You know things."

The oldest board member scoffed. "And if we don’t?"

Adrian’s eyes met his. He shrugged casually. "Then I stop protecting you."

Nobody spoke.

The man stared at him. "You’ve been protecting us?"

Adrian’s mouth curved slightly. He placed the papers back into the folder. "I’ve been giving you the opportunity to protect yourselves."

The woman shook her head. "You can’t just walk in here and threaten the board."

Adrian looked at her. "I can."

"You’re a professor."

Adrian’s eyes hardened. "No."

The room went silent.

He slowly removed his university ID from his jacket pocket. He placed it on the table.

The woman stared at it.

Adrian looked at the card, then back at them. "I was a professor." He pushed the ID away. "That arrangement is over."

The youngest board member looked confused. "What does that mean?"

"It means you no longer have any authority over me."

Adrian’s voice remained even. "And I no longer have any reason to pretend I don’t know what happened here."

The oldest man stood. "This is outrageous."

Adrian didn’t move. "You should sit down."

"I won’t be intimidated by—"

"Sit."

The single word was quiet.

The man stopped. Adrian’s expression made him reconsider. Slowly, he sat.

Adrian watched him. "Good."

He returned to his chair. "You’re going to listen carefully."

Nobody interrupted.

"Dante moved the money into Blackwood through shell companies."

Adrian opened the second folder. "You knew."

The woman shook her head.

Adrian looked at her. "Don’t lie to me."

She stopped.

"You may lie to investigators." He turned another page. "You may lie to the board."

He turned to another page. "You may even lie to yourselves." His eyes lifted. "But don’t lie to me."

The woman stared at him.

Adrian continued. "You all received money." He pointed at the documents. "Every transfer has a date."

"Every account has an owner." He turned another page. "Every conversation has a timestamp."

He closed the folder. "And every secret has a trail."