“Do not speak, Grant,” Conrad snapped. “You are acting like a cornered dog. Hang up the phone. Walk out of that office. We will handle your wife’s demands through our own channels.”

Grant’s hand began to shake.

The pen slipped from his fingers, rolling across the desk and stopping against Naomi’s leather-bound calendar.

“No,” Grant whispered.

“What did you say?” Conrad asked.

“I said no,” Grant said, louder this time, his face turning a deep, angry red. “You’re going to let me take the fall for the Apex Logistics transactions. I saw the memos on your desk last week. You’ve already prepared the board to sacrifice me.”

The silence on the line was deafening.

“You are delusional, Grant,” Conrad said quietly.

“I’m not,” Grant said. He reached into his coat pocket with a jerky, desperate movement.

He pulled out a small, metallic silver flash drive.

“I have the ledger,” Grant said, holding the drive out toward Naomi. “I have the double-entry books for the Cayman accounts from 2018 to last month.”

Naomi did not hesitate.

She snatched the drive from his hand and immediately slotted it into the side of her laptop.