“If this is about the expansion, you know my father can help.”

“I don’t need your father’s help,” I said, perhaps too quickly.

She straightened up, her eyes narrowing.

“There is no need to be sharp,” she said.

“We are supposed to be partners, Adrian.”

“I am tired, Celeste,” I said.

“I need to review some files in my study.”

She watched me as I walked out of the kitchen, her expression neutral but her eyes suspicious.

I walked up the stairs to my private office at the end of the hall.

I locked the door behind me.

I sat down at my desk and pulled out my laptop.

Three days ago, I had hired a private forensic IT specialist to recover my old emails and medical portal data from eight years ago.

The files had arrived in an encrypted folder in my inbox.

I clicked on the folder and entered the password.

A list of PDFs appeared on the screen.

These were the original diagnostic records from Dr. Lionel Mercer’s clinic.

I opened the document containing my original semen analysis from 2016.