Page 90 of The Hunter's Empire

Unlike me, Stefano appears entirely absorbed in the work. For almost half an hour he says nothing. He simply reads. Occasionally he separates certain documents into a new pile. Sometimes he rereads a page before setting it aside. Once or twice, I notice his expression tighten ever so slightly before returning to its usual neutrality.

Most people would never notice those reactions.

I do. Because I know exactly what is in these files. I spent enough time studying them after Ireland to understand what Fergus had really built.

These aren't random scandals collected by a paranoid old man. They are decades of leverage. Every politician, judge, minister, police commissioner, executive, and crime boss documented inthese folders represents another piece of a system designed to control people who believed they were untouchable.

Eventually, Stefano closes one of the thicker folders and leans back in his chair.

"I knew the information Fergus was protecting would be valuable." He says. "What I did not anticipate was the scale."

His fingers rest lightly on one of the files. "This is extraordinary."

Coming from Stefano, that is practically a standing ovation.

"It nearly got us killed." I reply.

His eyes lift toward me. "I heard about the attack."

"It stopped being a covert extraction and turned into a battlefield in less than ten minutes."

"And yet you still brought everything back."

For a moment, silence settles over the room. Neither of us needs to explain the implications. We both understand them.

The files do not simply expose corruption. They explain how corruption functions. They reveal the machinery hidden behind decades of political decisions, financial arrangements, criminal partnerships, and carefully orchestrated outcomes.

For years, people assumed the Keegans maintained power through money and violence. But the truth is far more unsettling. They maintained power because they knew exactly where every important body was buried.

Stefano folds his hands together. "If even a fraction of this information became public, governments wouldcollapse. Corporations would tear themselves apart. Criminal organizations would start killing one another before sunrise."

"And if it stays private?"

A faint smile touches his lips. "Then whoever controls these files controls the people inside them."

The weight of that statement settles heavily between us. I already knew the information was valuable. Hearing it spoken aloud makes me realize just how much power is currently sitting on my conference table.

Eventually, my thoughts drift toward the question that has been bothering me ever since we left Ireland. "Mr. Rinaldi."

His attention shifts toward me.

"What happened to him?"

A slight frown appears. "Who?"

"Domenico." The name hangs in the air.

"He disappeared the moment we landed. I haven't heard from him since."

Stefano shrugs. "He was a contractor."

"That's not an answer."

"That is the answer."

I lean back slightly. "My dad hired him years ago."

Stefano remains silent.