When I began my own investigation into Harry and the operations surrounding him, I had expected to uncover dirt—illegal businesses, corruption, maybe even human traffickin. But what I had not expected was for the investigation to circle back to me.
To my own blood.
It hadn't even been two hours since the files had been delivered to my desk, yet the information inside them had already managed to turn my entire night upside down. Among the documents detailing the operations of Club 818—the same place Catherine had been forced to work—another name had repeatedly surfaced.
Clara Albert.
At first, it had meant nothing to me. Just another name buried in decades of records tied to nightclubs, shell companies, and private hospitals. But the deeper I looked, the more that name began to appear in places it shouldn't have.
