Caleb was the majority partner of the investment group funding the Maribel.

His jaw was set, his eyes fixed on the scattering of papers across the mahogany table.

“Is this true, Grant?” Caleb asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Caleb, she is hysterical,” Grant said, his voice cracking as he tried to project confidence.

“She is a disgruntled employee who realized her career is over.”

“I have the text messages,” Lila said, her hands trembling as she grabbed her designer purse from the chair.

She dug inside and pulled out a gold-cased iPhone.

“I backed them up on a cloud drive,” she said, her thumb tapping the screen frantically.

“Every single one of them.”

“He told me to coordinate with the county clerk’s office on a Friday afternoon so nobody would check the signatures until Monday.”

She held the phone out toward Detective Miller.

“Look at the dates,” Lila said.

“Look at what he wrote to me.”

Grant lunged forward, his hand reaching out to grab the phone.

“Give me that,” Grant snarled.

Detective Miller stepped between them, his large frame blocking Grant completely.