“Where is Julian right now?” I asked.

Victoria’s eyes narrowed.

“That is none of your concern,” she said.

“He is being managed.”

“He’s at the penthouse in Westwood,” I said. “With Chloe.”

Victoria didn’t blink, but her grip on her phone tightened.

“They are packing,” I said.

“They’ve been moving money out of the offshore accounts in Belize all morning.”

I saw the slight twitch in Victoria’s jaw.

She didn’t know.

She thought she had Julian under her thumb, but he was already running.

“You think you’re in control, Victoria,” I said.

“But Julian and Chloe are going to leave you holding the bag.”

“They don’t care about the Callahan name.”

“They care about the sixty million dollars they’ve systematically funneled into private accounts over the last three years.”

Victoria laughed, a dry, rattling sound.

“Julian wouldn’t dare,” she said.

“I made him.”

“I gave him the papers, the clothes, the life.”

“He is nothing without my signature on the family trusts.”

“He doesn’t need your signature anymore,” I said.

“He has the ledger.”

The word hung between us, heavier than the heat.