Part 4 — After my warning at the billionaire’s negotiation, the lawyer ordered the guards to remove me, but his smile suddenly disappeared

That night we did not go to the old harbor.

Grant looked at Victor and told him only one word:

“Lock it.”

Victor lowered the window blinds. Owen took out the memory card and made several copies with his phone. He sent one to me and gave another to his trusted investigator.

Grant’s phone rang again.

It was Daniel.

“Grant, where are you?” His voice sounded calm. “We cannot find Cole. All this is getting out of control.”

“Do you always say that when you lose control?”

Silence fell on the other side.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I am talking about Mason’s car brakes.”

Daniel immediately exhaled.

“Owen is playing against you.”

“My father’s recording says something else.”

“Do not trust that woman, Grant. She will do anything for money.”

I lowered my eyes, but this time the words no longer hurt me. All my life I had heard that a uniform reduced a person’s worth. Now for the first time I understood that Daniel needed to humiliate me so that no one would believe my voice.

“Daniel,” Grant said, “copies of the transfers made with your signature are already stored in several places.”

“You will regret this.”

“Maybe. But you will regret it sooner.”

The call ended.

Four minutes later Owen’s phone rang. His face changed.

“My firm is withdrawing from the case,” he said. “The partners said I must testify against Daniel. If I do not agree, they will hand all the documents to the prosecutor themselves.”

Grant nodded.

“And what will you do?”

Owen looked toward me.

“This time I will tell the truth.”

The next morning a meeting was held in a legal office in the city center. Investigators, bank auditors, and two federal agents were already there. I sat in the corner with my father’s notebook on my knees.

A screen stood in front of Grant.

“This recording will be sent to court,” one investigator said. “But we need everyone to confirm what is heard.”

The audio was turned on.

First my father’s voice was heard.

“If anyone hears this, let them know that Mason’s death was not an accident…”

Then Cole’s voice:

“The incident will happen before Denver after the signature.”

Everyone sitting in the room looked at Grant.

But the recording did not end there.

In the last minutes Daniel’s voice was heard.

“Grant will survive only if he sees everything the way I tell him. Cole will translate. Owen will sign. And that auditor will keep silent.”

Grant raised his head.

“The auditor is my father.”

“Yes,” Owen said. “That night Daniel followed him by car. Mason’s car was going ahead. Daniel and Cole were sitting in the second car. Your father recorded their conversation.”

“And my father?”

“After the accident he went to the tunnel. He saw that Mason was already dead. Daniel told him that if he told the truth, first Elene and then you would be killed.”

My hands gripped the notebook so tightly that the leather cover cut into my fingers.

“Is that why he kept silent?” I asked.

“No,” Owen answered. “He still began gathering evidence. That is precisely why they killed him three days later. His death seemed like a heart attack, but his medicines had been changed.”

The room in front of me seemed to empty. I remembered my father’s face, his quiet smile, the glass standing by the kitchen window. For years I thought that he had simply become lost in his last months. In reality, he was afraid that he could no longer tell the truth in order to protect his daughter.

Grant put his hand on the table.

“Has Daniel been arrested?”

“Not yet,” the investigator said. “But his accounts are frozen and he will no longer be able to move around.”

That same evening Cole was also found. He was trying to leave the country at the airport. In his bag he had a new passport, money, and a letter signed by Daniel.

The next day Daniel was brought to a preliminary court hearing. He was handcuffed, but his face was still calm.

Grant stood in front of him.

“Why?” he asked.

Daniel laughed.

“Because you always believed your money protected everyone. I simply did what you did not dare to do.”

“You killed my brother.”

“Your brother was standing in the way.”

After these words the investigator turned on the recording. Daniel heard his own voice.

“The auditor will keep silent.”

His face slowly changed.

Then the second phrase was heard.

“The second payment after the signature.”

Daniel closed his eyes.

“This is fabricated,” he said.

“It is your voice,” the investigator replied.

“I do not speak like that.”

Grant said calmly to him:

“You spoke exactly like that when others thought no one could hear you in your room.”

For the first time Daniel looked down at the floor.

The following months passed quickly and heavily. The investigation confirmed embezzlement, the organization of Mason’s murder, and the concealment of my father’s death. The court sentenced Daniel and Cole to long terms. Owen testified and left work as a lawyer.

Grant did not offer me a job.

For that I was grateful.

He told me only one thing:

“You choose for yourself what you want.”

I returned to university and continued studying interpreting. Grant’s company paid the tuition, but I had one condition written into the contract: no one could control my decisions.

Elene found a small apartment near the river. On Sundays we made coffee together, opened the window, and listened to the damp sounds of the city.

Three months later Elene told me:

“You know, for the first time I no longer look at you as if you might disappear at any moment.”

I smiled.

“For the first time I also no longer expect someone to break down the door.”

On the morning of the first winter day I was walking toward my new job when I received a message on my phone.

It was not from Daniel.

It was from Owen.

“Grant is asking to meet you. He says none of this could have ended without you.”

A few minutes later Grant called me himself.

“I want to thank you,” he told me.

“You have already thanked me.”

“No, not for you. I want you to know that Mason’s case went all the way.”

“I know.”

“Could we meet at least once without guards or folders?”

Outside the window the first snow was beginning. White flakes fell on the black stones of the street and disappeared at once.

“Grant,” I told him, “I did not remain in your life because I saved you. I simply spoke when others were silent.”

“I know.”

“And now I want my life to be mine.”

He was silent for a long time.

“I understand,” he said at last.

It was the most peaceful goodbye I had ever had.

When I returned home in the evening, I put my father’s notebook on the table. Beside it I placed the small copper compass. For years I thought it was only an old object that could not show me the way.

Now I knew that the compass had to return not direction, but courage.

I touched the engraved words with my fingers.

“Do not turn away.”

And for the first time in my life I was no longer afraid of the right path.