“I came to talk,” Grant said, his voice dropping to a low, menacing register.

“We have nothing to discuss without a court reporter present,” Naomi replied.

“You’re trespassing, Grant.”

“I’m looking for my wife,” he said, taking a step toward Naomi.

“And I’m looking for the girl who helped her steal my family’s private documents.”

“They aren’t your documents if they belong to a public charity,” Naomi said coolly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Grant snapped.

“But if you think you can use corporate records to blackmail my father, you are mistaken.”

“We don’t need to blackmail anyone,” Naomi said.

“The law will do the work for us.”

“Get out of my office before I press the silent alarm under my desk.”

There was a long, suffocating silence.

I stared at the shadow of Grant’s shoes through the gap under the desk.

He stood perfectly still for five seconds.

“You’re making a mistake, Naomi,” Grant said quietly.

“The Harrow family doesn’t lose.”

He turned and walked away, his footsteps fading down the hallway.

A minute later, the elevator doors groaned closed, and the hum of the motor faded.