“What is the meaning of this, Vivian?” the old man demanded.

“Arthur, please,” Vivian said, her hand trembling as she finally silenced her phone.

“It is a misunderstanding by some low-level bureaucrats,” she added.

“We also have evidence of embezzlement,” the agent said, turning to Grandfather Bradford.

“Over forty million dollars have been systematically siphoned from the primary Bradford trust over the last three years.”

The old man paused, his grip tightening on his gold-headed cane until his fingers turned purple.

He looked from the agent to his daughter-in-law.

“Forty million,” Grandfather Bradford repeated, his voice quiet but deadly.

Garrett stood between us, his gaze moving from his mother to the agents.

“Mother, tell me this isn’t true,” Garrett said.

“Garrett, be quiet,” she snapped, her old authority flickering for a brief second.

“Do not say a word without our legal team present.”

Behind them, Audrey Kensington stared at her groom, her face frozen beneath her lace veil.

Her father, Senator Thomas Kensington, stood beside her.

The senator was staring at his own phone, his face darkening with every second.

I watched him tap the screen rapidly.