“Go back to work.”

“Go back to work.”

I thought I’d misheard him.

“What?”

“Victor needs to believe his setup worked.”

I looked at both men.

“You want me carrying coffee around the guy who may be planning a murder?”

Ethan shook his head.

“No.”

Then he slid a tiny audio recorder across the desk.

“We want him talking to the waitress he thinks nobody will believe.”

That was a terrible plan.

Which is probably why it worked.

PART 3 — A hidden recording gave Victor enough rope to destroy himself.

I returned to the dining room at 8:41.

Victor noticed me immediately.

His smile was polite.

Too polite.

“Anna,” he said in German, “busy evening?”

“Very.”

I poured coffee.

My recorder sat beneath my apron seam.

My heart was punching my ribs.

Victor waited until I entered the service hallway.

Then he followed.

Of course he did.

The hallway smelled like bleach, old coffee, and somebody’s cold schnitzel.

He blocked the kitchen door.

“You heard something today.”

Not a question.

I shrugged.

“I hear many things.”

His smile disappeared.

“You are not as clever as you think.”

“Probably not.”

“You have a sick mother.”

Everything inside me froze.

He knew about Mom.

That was his mistake.

Before that moment, part of me still wondered whether I had stepped into some complicated corporate dispute I didn’t understand.

Then he mentioned my mother.

No business reason.

No translation issue.

Just a threat wearing a nice suit.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.

Victor leaned closer.

“People like Carter survive because people like you remember their place.”

I looked at his shoes.

Italian leather.

Not one speck of dirt.

“What place is that?”

He smiled.

“Carrying trays.”

The recorder caught every word.

Then he said the sentence Marcus had been hoping for.

“If you repeat what you think you heard, the police will find stolen company files in your locker. Carter will believe you tried to blackmail him. Your hotel will fire you. Your university will hear about it.”

He paused.

“And your mother will lose the insurance support you’re so desperate to keep.”

I looked straight at him.

“You researched me.”

“I prepare.”

“So do I.”

His eyes narrowed.

I stepped aside.

At the far end of the hallway, a security camera blinked red.

Victor followed my glance.

His face changed.

Just slightly.

That was enough.

He walked away without another word.

Three minutes later, Marcus pulled me into the security office.

“You got it.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

Ethan listened through headphones.

When Victor mentioned my mother, Ethan’s jaw tightened.

“That’s enough,” Marcus said.

Ethan removed the headphones.

“No.”

I stared at him.

“What more do you need?”

He turned the laptop toward us.

His forensic accountant in New York had just discovered three consulting companies receiving payments from Carter Energy contracts Victor had translated during the previous eighteen months.

One was registered in Luxembourg.

One in Cyprus.

The third traced back to a shell company controlled by Klaus Brenner’s brother.

More than $11 million had moved through them.

Victor wasn’t betraying Ethan for one deal.

He had been feeding on him for years.

And someone inside Carter Energy had approved every payment.

PART 4 — The fraud trail led straight into Ethan’s own executive office.

At 9:26 p.m., Ethan called his general counsel in New York.

I sat across the room eating half a stale ham sandwich because apparently near-death corporate espionage still makes you hungry.

“Pull every contract Lang touched,” Ethan said.

His lawyer’s voice came through the speaker.

“That’s hundreds.”

“Start with amendments over five million.”

Typing.

Silence.

Then:

“Ethan.”

His tone changed.

“We have a problem.”

Three transfers had been authorized using credentials belonging to Daniel Price, Ethan’s chief strategy officer.

Daniel had worked beside him for eleven years.

Best man at Ethan’s second wedding.

Godfather to his niece.

The guy who sent Ethan Thanksgiving photos from Vermont and signed Christmas cards with “family.”

Ethan closed his eyes for one second.

Then opened them.

“Call him.”

Daniel answered from Manhattan.

It was 3:31 in the afternoon there.

He sounded relaxed.

“Boss, how’s Berlin?”

Ethan put the call on speaker.

“Beautiful.”

“Get the deal done?”

“Almost.”

Daniel laughed.

“Knew Victor would carry it.”

Across the room, Marcus stopped moving.

Ethan asked casually, “Did you authorize the Helix consulting transfers?”

Silence.

Just half a second.

Enough.

“I’d have to check.”

“Eleven million dollars.”

“Then finance probably processed it.”

“Using your credentials.”

Another silence.

Daniel recovered.

“Cyber issue?”