The scent of damp earth and fermentation hung heavy in the air near the old vineyard barns. Clara waited, the chill seeping into her bones.
Marcus Vance, Julian’s lead financial analyst, emerged from the shadows. He moved with a nervous energy, his gaze darting around.
“He’s losing it, Clara,” Marcus said, his voice low and urgent.
Clara raised an eyebrow. “Julian?”
“His firm. Croft Developments,” Marcus clarified. “It’s crumbling. He’s sinking everything into this fight for the estate. He thinks it’s his last chance.”
Marcus pulled a thick envelope from inside his coat. His hands trembled as he held it out to Clara.
“These are internal ledger sheets,” he explained. “Off-the-books stuff. Balance sheets for his key investment vehicle.”
“Why are you showing me this?” Clara asked, her fingers brushing against the heavy paper.
Marcus’s eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, held a flicker of anguish. “My father worked this land for forty years. Eleanor saved his life more than once.”
“Julian is willing to destroy this place to cover his mistakes,” Marcus continued, his voice tight with disgust. “Auction off vineyard parcels, sell historic easements to developers.”
“The ledgers show it all. His firm is facing natural insolvency within sixty days. Even if he wins the estate, it won’t save him. It’ll just be a quick liquidation to pay off bad debts.”
The papers felt heavy in Clara’s hands. Concrete proof. Julian wasn’t fighting for family legacy. He was fighting for survival.
She looked at Marcus. “What should I do?”
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