“Emily, who did you hire to play this part? You expect us to believe you married a stranger?”

“He isn’t a stranger,” I said, though my chest felt so tight I could barely draw air.

My eyes kept darting to the black glass back of Nathan’s phone.

The words of the text message seemed burned into my retinas.

*Feds at the door.*

Grant laughed again, but the sound was thin, lacking its usual boom.

He kept his eyes on Nathan, his fingers twitching against the cashmere coat draped over his arm.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, buddy, but my lawyers will have this sorted out by noon tomorrow,” Grant said.

“Emily is unfit, and she knows it. The courts already have the documentation.”

Nathan tilted his head, a cold smile touching the corner of his lips.

“Do they?” Nathan asked.

“You mean the medical records you spent the last eighteen months altering through your private clinic?”

My heart stopped.

I looked from Nathan to Grant, whose face suddenly drained of what little color it had.

“What are you talking about?” I whispered, looking at Nathan.