The thick manila folder lay wide open between us on the desk, its contents radiating a silent, toxic gravity that seemed to distort the very air in the room. For several long, agonizing seconds, I stared at the crisp, white paper, my hands frozen at my sides as I struggled to find the courage to touch it. The sleek, high-end office around me seemed to completely fade into a distant blur until all I could see, and all I could focus on, was that damned stack of documents resting on Alejandro Castillo's polished mahogany desk.Finally, I reached out, my fingers trembling slightly as I grasped the edge of the first page and brought it closer to my eyes. My breath caught instantly in my throat, a freezing wave of shock rippling straight down my spine.Bank transfers, invoices, hidden offshore bank accounts located in remote tropical tax havens. The amounts listed in the ledgers were so obscenely large they made my head spin. Five million dollars, three million eight hundred thousand dollar
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