Another camera angle appeared.

This time inside the hotel conference room.

Isabella sitting across from the doctor.

Two nurses present.

The timestamp matched the photos exactly.

Edward leaned back slightly.

“So yes,” he said.

“She went to that hotel.”

His eyes settled on Arthur.

“For a medical consultation.”

The room was deathly quiet.

Camille whispered,

“That… that could be edited.”

Edward smiled faintly.

“I thought you might say that.”

He nodded to the second attorney.

The man opened his briefcase and placed a sealed document on the table.

“The original security files were obtained directly from the hotel’s servers,” Edward said.

He paused.

“And verified by a digital forensics firm.”

Arthur looked like someone had punched him in the stomach.

Ryan finally spoke.

“I… I didn’t know.”

Isabella turned slowly toward him.

“You didn’t ask,” she said quietly.

He looked down.

Edward’s voice hardened.

“But the interesting part,” he said, “is not that these photos are misleading.”

He picked one up again.

“It’s that they were taken by a private investigator.”

Arthur stiffened.

Edward’s eyes sharpened.

“And that investigator was hired three weeks before my daughter ever visited that hotel.”

The room froze.

Edward looked directly at Arthur.

“So my question is simple.”

His voice dropped to a cold whisper.

“Why was someone already spying on my daughter before you even had something to frame her with?”

Arthur said nothing.

Ryan looked slowly toward his father.

“Dad…?”

Camille’s confidence cracked.

Edward leaned forward slightly.

“And more importantly,” he continued,

“Why did that investigator deposit a very large payment into a Cayman Islands account belonging to—”

He slid another document across the table.

It stopped in front of Ryan.

Ryan looked down.

His face went white.

The account holder’s name was printed clearly.

Ryan Castellano.

Isabella felt the air leave her lungs.

Ryan shook his head.

“No… that’s not—”

Edward’s voice was calm.

“The transfer occurred two days before you accused your wife of cheating.”

Ryan stared at the document like it was poison.

Arthur finally slammed his hand on the table.

“That proves nothing!”

Edward smiled slightly.

“No,” he said.

“But this does.”

He tapped the tablet again.

A voice recording began to play.

Ryan’s voice.

Clear.

Cold.

“We just need enough photos to make it believable. Once she signs the divorce, she’s gone. And the Reyes assets are off the table.”

The room exploded into silence.

Isabella felt something inside her chest shatter.

Ryan whispered,

“Wait… I—”

Edward’s voice was ice.

“You planned this.”

Ryan looked desperate now.

“No, Dad made me—”

Arthur stood violently.

“Shut up!”

Too late.

Edward slowly stood.

His height suddenly made him look enormous.

“Three years,” Edward said quietly.

“You married my daughter.”

His eyes burned with fury now.

“You humiliated her. Isolated her.”

His voice dropped lower.

“And tried to destroy her reputation so you could quietly erase her from your family.”

He placed both hands on the table.

The room seemed to shrink under the weight of his presence.

“You made one catastrophic mistake.”

Arthur swallowed.

Edward looked at Isabella.

Then back at them.

“You assumed the mechanic had no tools.”

He smiled.

“But I build engines.”

A pause.

“And I dismantle them too.”

Arthur’s voice trembled.

“What are you saying?”

Edward straightened his jacket.

“I’m saying,” he replied calmly,

“That the Castellano empire runs on six banks.”

Arthur’s face went rigid.

Edward’s final words dropped like a bomb.

“And five of them belong to me.”

No one in the Castellano dining room moved.

Edward Reyes’ final sentence hung in the air like thunder before a storm.

“Five of them belong to me.”

Arthur Castellano stared at him.

Then he laughed.

It was forced.

Sharp.

Almost desperate.

“That’s absurd,” Arthur said. “The Castellano Group has been financed by the same institutions for decades.”

Edward didn’t argue.

Instead, he gestured toward the attorneys standing behind him.

“Mr. Bennett.”

One of them stepped forward and placed a thick folder on the table.

Arthur didn’t touch it.

Edward opened it himself and slid the first document across the polished wood.

“Primary credit line,” Edward said calmly.
“East Harbor Commercial Bank.”

Arthur scoffed.

“We’ve worked with them for thirty years.”

Edward nodded.

“Yes.”

Then he flipped the page.

“But they were acquired eight months ago.”

Arthur frowned.

“By whom?”

Edward met his eyes.

“Reyes Capital Holdings.”

The color drained from Arthur’s face.

Ryan’s head snapped toward his father.

“What?”

Edward continued.

“Second bank — Ridgeway Financial.”

Another document slid across the table.

“Acquired last year.”

Flip.

“Third — North Atlantic Trust.”

Flip.

“Fourth — Stonebridge Corporate Finance.”

Arthur’s breathing had grown shallow.

Edward placed the final page down.

“And fifth…”

He paused.

“Liberty Continental.”

Ryan whispered,

“That’s impossible…”

Edward leaned back in his chair.

“Nothing is impossible when you plan properly.”

Arthur slammed his fist on the table.

“You’re bluffing.”

Edward didn’t raise his voice.

Instead, he nodded to one of the attorneys.

The man stepped forward and placed a small device on the table.

A phone.

He pressed a button.

A voice filled the room.

“Arthur, it’s Daniel from East Harbor. I’m afraid there’s been a change in your credit conditions…”

Arthur lunged forward and shut the recording off.

“Enough!” he barked.

But the damage had been done.

Ryan looked terrified.

“Dad… our operating loans…”

Arthur didn’t answer.

Edward folded his hands.

“Your construction projects are leveraged at ninety percent,” he said calmly.

Ryan looked sick.