“From there, it went to a holding company based in the Cayman Islands.”

“Who owns the holding company?” I asked.

Marcus did not answer right away.

He scrolled down to the corporate registry filings and highlighted a name.

The name of the managing director was listed in bold black print.

Vanessa Vale.

My chest tightened as I stared at the name on the glass screen.

“Vanessa,” I whispered.

“She didn’t just step into your bed, Evelyn,” Marcus said. “She stepped into your entire life.”

“She was a target in my last deep-cover operation,” I said, my voice hardening. “How did Grant even meet her?”

“We are still tracing the connection,” Marcus said. “But the paperwork shows she has full power of attorney over every dummy corporation Grant set up.”

“So she owns my house,” I said. “She owns my family trust.”

“Technically, yes,” Marcus said. “On paper, you have nothing left.”

He slid his finger across the screen to pull up another document.

“And there is more,” he added, looking up at me. “They are moving fast.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, a cold knot forming in my stomach.