Grant did not look at me; his eyes were locked on the progress bar of the video.

“This is a violation of privacy,” Grant muttered, though his voice lacked its usual force.

“It is evidence of a crime,” Lena said, her finger tapping the screen to pause the video on a clear frame of his face.

“Specifically, it is preparation for the forgery of legal documents used to attempt to seize Whitaker assets.”

Blaire leaned closer to the tablet, her mouth slightly open.

Her gaze shifted from the screen to Grant, then back to the screen.

“Grant,” Blaire whispered, her voice cracking. “You told me that document was already signed.”

“You said she had agreed to the amendment months ago, and you just needed a digital copy for the bank.”

Grant reached out to grab her arm, but she pulled away from his touch.

“Don’t,” Blaire said, stepping back toward the window.

The rain beat a steady, heavy rhythm against the leaded glass behind her.

“You told me this was all legal,” she said, her eyes wide with sudden panic.