She grabbed my wrist before I could turn the handle.

“Wait,” Margaret whispered, her eyes wide as she stared at the screen.

The vibration of her phone was loud in the quiet hallway.

She tapped the screen, her thumbs moving quickly.

“What is it?” I asked.

My hand remained on the brass door handle.

“It is a message from our contact in the billing department,” Margaret said.

She held the phone up so I could see the glowing text.

“Grant just authorized a wire transfer of fifty million dollars from the trust’s primary reserve account.”

“To an offshore account in the Cayman Islands.”

“He is draining the liquid assets right now.”

I stared at the screen.

“If that transfer completes, the trust will be empty before we can liquidate,” I said.

“We have to stop him,” Margaret said.

“Now.”

I gripped the handle tighter and pushed the heavy mahogany door open.

The heavy door clicked and swung inward.

The hum of voices in the boardroom stopped instantly.

Twenty pairs of eyes turned toward the doorway.

Grant stood at the head of the long obsidian table, a laser pointer in his hand.