“I don’t care about the board,” I said.

“And what of your current marriage?” she asked. “What of your reputation in the city?”

“You underestimate how far I am willing to go,” I said.

I turned away from her and walked toward the exit of the conservatory.

“Adrian,” she called out, her voice losing its calm veneer for the first time. “Do not make a mistake you cannot undo.”

I did not stop walking.

I grabbed my coat from Harris at the front door and walked out into the cold rain.

Once inside my car, I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.

My chest ached with the weight of eight wasted years.

I took out my phone and dialed Marcus Vance’s direct line.

He answered on the second ring.

“Adrian,” Marcus said. “I was just about to call you. I received the preliminary audit on Dr. Mercer’s clinic.”

“What did you find?” I asked, putting the car in drive.

“We are looking into his offshore accounts,” Marcus said. “There are several large transactions from your mother’s personal trust dating back nine years.”