“They were routed through a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands,” he continued.

“The sole signatory on that shell company is Vivian Bradford.”

I looked at the final figure at the bottom of the page.

It was twelve million dollars.

“She was trying to hollow out the company before the merger went through,” I said.

My voice did not shake.

“She wanted to leave me with an empty shell,” I added.

Arthur, the chief counsel, rubbed his temples.

“We tried to warn her,” Arthur muttered.

“She wouldn’t listen.”

“Where is she now, Arthur?” I asked.

He looked up, his eyes bloodshot under the fluorescent lights.

“She is at the Lake Geneva estate,” he said.

“With Garrett.”

I stood up and pulled my coat back over my shoulders.

“Then that is where we are going,” I said.

The drive to Lake Geneva took over an hour through the heavy gray downpour.

The windshield wipers clicked rhythmically, a steady beat against the glass.

Marcus drove, his eyes fixed on the wet highway.

“If the federal government freezes the Bradford accounts, the merger is in jeopardy,” Marcus said.