“It’s not my title that protects me, Grant,” I said, leaning heavily on the IV pole. “It’s the truth.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said. “I know what’s in that house. I know what you’ve been hiding.”

He took a step closer, the security guard instantly placing a hand on his holster.

“You think I didn’t find the locked safe in the basement?” Grant asked, a smug smile touching his lips. “You think I don’t know about your grandfather’s things?”

A cold knot tightened in my stomach.

My grandfather, Everett Langley, had left me a collection of personal journals and military records in a locked mahogany box.

It was kept in the private study, a room Grant was never supposed to enter.

“What did you do, Grant?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I took what belongs to me,” he said. “I took the real history of this family. The stuff your precious General here wouldn’t want anyone to see.”

General Vale’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing.

“You’re a thief, Holloway,” Vale said.

“I’m a man protecting his interests,” Grant retorted.