He stared at Nathan, his eyes widening slightly as if recognizing the man sitting in front of him.

“Do I know you?” Grant asked, his arrogance suddenly faltering.

Before Nathan could answer, a sharp vibration hummed from the tabletop.

It was Nathan’s phone, lying face up next to his tablet.

The screen lit up with a bright red notification banner.

I looked down and read the preview of the incoming text message.

The words made my breath catch in my throat.

*Feds at the door. Shred the Whitmore files now.*

Nathan did not look down at the screen.

He simply reached out, flipped the tablet face down with one smooth motion of his hand, and kept his eyes locked on Grant.

“I believe you heard me, Mr. Whitmore,” Nathan said, his voice flat and level.

“You have no business with my wife, and you have no business at this table.”

Evelyn took a step forward, her manicured hand tightening on the gold strap of her leather purse.

“This is absurd,” she hissed, her voice low so the surrounding diners wouldn’t hear.