Margaret sat perfectly still, her breath coming in shallow, silent sips.

The rain outside seemed to grow louder, washing down the glass in sheets.

“How did you get these documents, Ms. Monroe?” Margaret asked, her voice dangerously quiet.

“That is proprietary information,” Grace said with a cold smile.

“But let’s just say that not everyone in the Whitmore corporate office is loyal to Adrian.”

Margaret’s fingers curled into the leather of her handbag.

She looked at the signature on the screen, her eyes dark with a mixture of anger and calculation.

“If this goes public,” Margaret began, “it will destroy the valuation of the trust.”

“Yes, it will,” Grace agreed.

“The board will force Adrian out,” Margaret said, almost to herself.

“They would have no choice,” Grace said. “And the federal prosecutors would likely take an interest in the bank loan application.”

I watched the two women, feeling like a spectator in a war that had been brewing long before I ever met Adrian.

Margaret was not thinking about Lily’s rights anymore.

She was thinking about survival.

“What do you want?” Margaret asked, her voice flat and defeated.