My fingers gripped the back of an empty leather chair to steady myself.

“Grant is transferring fifty million dollars of the trust’s primary reserves,” I said.

I held up Margaret’s phone, the screen still glowing with the transaction alert.

“It is going to an offshore account in the Cayman Islands as we speak,” I added.

Grant laughed, a short, dry sound that did not reach his eyes.

“My wife is clearly not well,” Grant said to the board, shaking his head.

“She nearly died in delivery three days ago, and she is suffering from severe postpartum delusions.”

He gestured to two security guards who appeared in the doorway behind us.

“Escort them out,” Grant ordered.

The guards hesitated, looking at Margaret, then at me.

They knew who I was, and they knew Margaret had represented the family for decades.

“If you touch her, you will be liable for assaulting a major shareholder,” Margaret said to the guards.

She did not raise her voice, but her tone was ice-cold.

She turned her gaze back to the board members.