Chapter 542: Louis's Lost Investor

The discovery surrounding louis's lost investor pulled the investigation away from abstract questions and toward something Freya understood far more clearly: people making deliberate choices. One payment came from an investment group that abruptly withdrew support from Louis shortly before his collapse.

Derek treated the old financial records as a fresh case rather than assuming Crosswind explained everything. He rebuilt timelines from bank movements, calendars, corporate filings, archived messages, and access logs. Mercer handled only the behavioral-model evidence, keeping technical interpretation separate from accusations.

Louis remembers the investor's decision as one of the first signs that his enemies had coordinated their timing.

Freya welcomed that separation. For months, the investigation had forced her to consider impossible memories, adaptive stories, and systems that seemed to recognize identities across time. Corporate sabotage was ugly, but at least it belonged to a world where motives could be documented.

Louis was less comforted. The deeper Derek looked, the clearer it became that the people who attacked him had known more about his behavior than ordinary competitors should have known. They had not merely studied his companies. Someone had studied him.

That realization reopened part of the argument between Louis and Freya. His hidden backup plan had protected them, but every new document also reminded Freya how little she had known while making decisions inside the crisis. She refused to pretend later success made the secrecy harmless.

Louis did not defend himself with the old explanation. He simply answered her questions. When he discovered something he had forgotten to disclose, he told her before Derek could. The habit was still new enough that Freya noticed each occurrence.

She did not reward him with instant forgiveness. Neither did she punish him forever. Their marriage had moved beyond both extremes.

Sunroom continued operating while the investigation expanded. The cultural center's revised atrium was finally taking physical shape, and Freya spent a morning walking the site with Helen and Julian. Seeing steel installed where drawings had existed weeks earlier gave her a satisfaction no mystery could reproduce.

At Awake Stories, the new imprint approved its first acquisition list. Freya read the summaries but allowed the editorial team to make the final selections within budget. Delegating had once made her nervous. Now she understood that building something strong meant allowing other people to own decisions too.

The lesson applied uncomfortably well to marriage.

Louis could not protect Freya by owning every decision. Freya could not prove independence by refusing every shared responsibility. They were still learning where partnership ended and control began.

At The Open Page, life remained wonderfully ordinary. A reader complained that a romance heroine forgave the hero too quickly. Freya nearly laughed aloud.

She understood the complaint better than the customer could possibly know.

That evening, she wrote the latest verified facts in her notebook. The pages now contained years of connections: Marianne, Daniel, Bailey, Evelyn, Crosswind, the Stone family, the observer role, and the attack that supposedly destroyed Louis.

The pattern was becoming larger, but Freya resisted the urge to make it cleaner than reality.

Some people had manipulated events. Some had merely predicted them. Some records were coincidences. Others were still unexplained.

She drew a line beneath the final fact and wrote one sentence.

The hidden manuscript remained sealed, even though the current investigation touched events from its known premise. Freya would not use unread fiction as evidence against living people.

The legal team also warned everyone that historical corporate records could contain incomplete context. No accusation would be made publicly until independent evidence supported it.

Knowing a person's likely choice is not the same as owning that choice.

Louis read it only after she turned the notebook toward him.

"I know," he said.

Freya believed that he was beginning to.