The guard moved toward me, his hand reaching for my phone.

“It is too late,” I said, stepping back.

“The server is cloud-hosted by the family’s primary security firm.”

“Even if you smash this phone, the recording of your confession is already saved on six different off-shore drives.”

I felt a sharp, cramping pain shoot through my lower back.

I pressed my free hand against my swollen stomach, trying to breathe through the sudden tightness.

“Julian,” Victoria said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. “Get the ledger.”

Julian hesitated.

He looked at me, then at the ledger in my hand.

The man I had loved, the man who had lied about his very name, looked suddenly small in the dim light.

“Do it, Julian,” Victoria snapped.

Julian took three quick steps toward me.

I pressed my back against a stack of wooden crates, holding the heavy leather book against my chest.

“Don’t touch her,” I said, though my voice was weaker now as another wave of pain washed over me.

“The board members are calling,” the guard said, looking at his vibrating screen again.