“They will expose you,” Nathan said. “To the board, to the courts, to everyone.”

Eleanor set her glass down on a nearby mahogany console table with a soft click.

“You always were too sentimental for your own good,” she said, her voice dripping with pity.

She turned her gaze to me, her eyes freezing me in place.

“And you,” she said. “A common housekeeper who thinks she can sit at my table.”

“I am his wife,” I said, finding my voice.

“For now,” Eleanor said smoothly.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, tapping the screen once.

“I’ve just sent an email to the editor of the Connecticut Chronicle,” she said.

My heart stopped.

“What did you do?” Nathan demanded, taking a step toward her.

“I simply shared a very interesting story,” Eleanor said, her voice pleasant. “About a massive discrepancy in the corporation’s offshore accounts.”

She looked directly at Nathan, her eyes gleaming with malice.

“A discrepancy of twelve million dollars,” she said. “Which seems to have been funneled into a private shell company registered under the name of Emily Carter.”