Christopher's POV
The morning broke without mercy.
Windsor awoke to scandal.
Every newspaper, every broadsheet — every whisper on every street — carried the same headline, printed in unforgiving black ink:
"THE CROSS FAMILY EXPOSED – FUNDS FOUND ON BOTH SIDES OF THE WAR."
Christopher Cross stood behind his desk in the pale light of dawn, still in shirtsleeves. The newspaper lay open before him, its words cutting with surgical precision.
He read every line twice.
The evidence was too clean.
The numbers, ledgers, and letters — every damning mark traced back to his father's hand.
The report from The Times lay beside it, a copy of an internal memorandum — authentic. Too authentic.
Someone had fed them official records.
He didn't need to ask who.
Charlton Daniel.
The thought did not surprise him.
It only sharpened the slow, controlled rage that burned beneath his ribs.
