Elias's eyes sharpened, and he subtly shifted closer to Isabelle, close enough to intervene again, far enough not to get in her way.
Gustavo stepped toward the bed where her father lay unconscious, his chest rising and falling weakly beneath the thin hospital blanket.
"That man," Gustavo said, pointing lazily, "...never handed over his seal."
Isabelle froze, her throat immediately drying up.
The seal?
The single object her father always kept with him—never in a safe, never in the office, and never with the lawyers either.
A dark wooden cylinder with his personal crest engraved at the bottom.
The one item was capable of validating old contracts, accessing dormant investments, confirming ownership of long-abandoned but legally active ventures, and reopening dormant partnerships.
He was looking for 'that' seal?
Even with the company dissolved, that seal still held power—power Gustavo should never have.
