“He spent four hours inside his investment firm’s corporate headquarters.”

“Our officers saw him leaving through the back entrance carrying a heavy briefcase.”

“He looked panicked.”

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.

“He’s destroying evidence,” I said.

“Or he’s trying to hide his assets before the court freezes them.”

“He was desperate to get into my family trust, Detective.”

“He kept demanding the master passwords for my personal accounts.”

“Why would an investment partner be that desperate for cash?”

“Exactly,” Sullivan said.

“We ran a preliminary check on his firm’s public filings.”

“Everything looks clean on the surface, but something is wrong.”

“He’s been shifting money between secondary accounts for months.”

I remembered the quiet nights at the estate.

I remembered Ethan sitting in his study, the desk lamp casting long shadows across his face.

He had been sweating, his collar open, staring at a thick black ledger.

Whenever I entered the room, he would slam the ledger shut and lock it in his desk.

“He has a private safe,” I told Sullivan.

“In his office at the firm.”