His voice turned dry.
“You built him a trap.”
I looked down at my coffee.
“That was the idea.”
“What do you want?”
“Start a forensic audit of the startup.”
“Done.”
“Contact the fraud division at First National.”
“I will.”
“And tell them the managing director of Vance Holdings may be attempting an unauthorized transfer using protected assets.”
Marcus asked:
“Where are you going?”
I closed my laptop.
“Home.”
“Why?”
I stood.
“To wait for my husband.”
PART 2 — THE PERFORMANCE
I returned to Westhaven around four.
The moment I unlocked the front door, the familiar smell of lavender and old wood hit me.
My house.
The house my father helped rebuild.
Hand-carved oak banister.
Stone fireplace.
Wraparound porch.
Thirty years of memories inside those walls.
Adrian was already sitting in the living room.
Scotch in one hand.
Leather briefcase open on the coffee table.
The moment he saw me, he put on the expression I knew so well.
