“I will even help you sort out the fake signatures on Sadie’s accounts.”

“But it is going to cost you.”

Wyatt stood perfectly still, his face an unreadable mask.

“What do you want, Melanie?” Wyatt asked.

His voice was surprisingly calm, devoid of the anger I expected.

“Fifty percent of Bennett-Wyatt Construction,” Melanie said.

“You will sign over half the shares of your company to me.”

“We can have the paperwork drawn up and signed before the police even finish questioning us tonight.”

I looked at Wyatt, my heart in my throat.

He had built that company from the ground up, working eighteen-hour days.

“Fifty percent,” Wyatt repeated, as if considering the weight of the words.

“That’s a very specific number.”

“It’s the number that keeps me comfortable and keeps you from going bankrupt,” Melanie said.

“Do we have a deal?”

Outside, the red and blue lights of a police cruiser flashed against the wet windowpanes.

The tires screeched to a halt in the alleyway below.

Marcus looked up from the computer, his face pale.

“They’re here,” Marcus whispered.