I studied the image again. “Are you certain it’s his ring?”
Marcus nodded. “Your father had it made after your grandfather died. Daniel wore it whenever he represented the family.”
Evelyn’s fingers tightened around the doorframe.
“What was the missing ledger?” she asked.
I looked at her. “I don’t know.”
That was the truth, though it sounded impossible coming from me. I had grown up surrounded by Moretti business records, family stories, and whispered conversations that stopped whenever I entered a room. But after my father’s death, I had taken control of the organization in pieces, relying on people who had worked beside him longer than I had.
Daniel Vale had been one of those people.
“He handled the old accounts,” I continued. “Mostly legal transfers, property holdings, charitable trusts. My father trusted him.”
“Did you?”
“I trusted the fact that my father did.”
Marcus pulled out his phone. “I’ll look into Vale.”
