Jared’s face drained of all color.

He looked at the folder, then shot a venomous glare at me.

“This is a fabrication,” Jared stammered, stepping toward his uncle.

“Shelby is unstable, and she is trying to ruin me because of our marital difficulties.”

“The laboratory seal is authentic, Jared,” Arthur said, slamming his hand on the table.

“The bank routing numbers are from our primary corporate accounts.”

Charles Harlan, the oldest member of the board, shook his head in disgust.

“You used company funds to house your pregnant mistress?” Charles asked.

“We built this company on conservative family principles,” Arthur growled.

“Our viewers and advertisers trust us because we represent decency.”

“If this gets out, our stock will plummet before the opening bell tomorrow,” another member said.

Jared shook his head, his hands trembling as he reached for Arthur’s folder.

“Uncle, please, let me explain,” Jared pleaded. “It was a temporary lapse. It is being handled.”

“It is handled,” I said quietly from the end of the table.

Every eye in the room turned to me.

“The test is real, Jared,” I said, keeping my voice calm and steady.