“As the trustee of the family foundation, I have the right to request an audit of any device connected to the corporate server.”

Vanessa’s hand hovered over her pocket, her fingers twitching.

Grant saw the movement.

For the first time since he had walked into my hospital room to demand a divorce, I saw a flicker of real fear in his eyes.

“Is it true?” he whispered, reaching out to grab her wrist.

Vanessa flinched, trying to pull away from his grip.

“Grant, you’re hurting me,” she whimpered.

“Give me the phone, Vanessa,” he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.

He yanked her arm forward, reaching into her pocket with his other hand.

She struggled against him, but he was stronger, tearing the fabric of her designer jacket as he pulled the device free.

The phone screen lit up, reflecting the harsh blue light onto Grant’s face.

“Unlock it,” he ordered.

“No,” Vanessa whispered, her eyes darting toward the door.

Grant held the phone in front of her face, forcing the facial recognition software to register her features.

The device clicked open.