The screen flickered, illuminating their faces in a pale, cold blue light.

“It’s all here,” Lena whispered, her finger tracing the rows of data.

“The wire transfers to Blue Horizon are detailed in the local cache.”

“These are international routing numbers,” Vance said, his face hardening.

“Look at the amounts. Two point four million, three point one million, four point six million.”

“This isn’t just a civil dispute over marital assets anymore,” I said.

“No,” Vance said. “This is structured international wire fraud across three separate jurisdictions.”

“That is a twenty-year federal felony,” Lena said.

“At least,” Vance replied, signaling his team to package the laptop.

My phone buzzed in my coat pocket, vibrating against my ribs.

It was Miller, my head of security at Whitaker Family Capital.

I stepped away from the agents, walking over to the wide glass window that looked out over the rainy skyline.

“Nora,” Miller said.

“We’ve been monitoring the offshore accounts we flagged last week.”

“Did you find something?” I asked.

“A wire just cleared ten minutes ago from an account in the Cayman Islands,” Miller said.