“She’s not alone,” the man said. “She has two private security guards with her, and they just entered the property.”

I reached for my phone, my hands shaking harder than they had during the transfer block.

“Call the police,” I told Marcus.

“I already did,” the man in the trench coat said. “But the local sheriff’s department is twenty minutes away.”

I looked at Garrett, then at the elevator doors.

“We have to go,” I said.

The storm outside seemed to grow louder, the rain lashing against the lobby glass like a warning.

I turned and ran back toward the wet street.

I stopped.

My boots skidded on the wet marble.

“Garrett, the papers,” I said, my voice sharp and clear. “Sign them now.”

He stared at me, his face pale under the bright fluorescent lights of the lobby.

The storm outside rumbled, shaking the glass doors behind us.

“If you don’t sign,” I said, “she takes everything, including our boys.”

He looked down at the documents resting on the reception counter.

The pen in his hand was shaking.

“If I sign this,” he whispered, “I lose my family’s company.”