My voice did not shake.

It sounded flat, even to my own ears.

“You stayed at the resort for three nights,” I said. “You used our joint visa.”

“It was a business meeting,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “Brooke was helping me negotiate a hospitality lease.”

“She is an interior designer, Victor,” I said.

“She has connections with the local developers,” he said. He took a step closer to the bed. “I did this for the company. For us.”

“You did it for yourself,” I said.

I swiped to the next photo on my phone.

This one was taken the following afternoon at the resort pool.

Victor was holding a drink, laughing as Brooke leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

The sun was bright, reflecting off the blue water of the pool.

“A friend of Nathan’s was staying at the same resort,” I said. “He recognized you.”

Victor closed his eyes.

He put his hands on his hips and stared at the linoleum floor.

“I made a mistake,” he said. “I was under an immense amount of pressure with the audit.”