“I know,” he said.

“She has been planning this ever since we got married.”

“She wants to force me to sign a postnuptial agreement, or divorce you.”

“If I do not, she will let the prosecution ruin me.”

I knelt in front of him, taking his hands in mine.

“We cannot let her win, Nathan.”

“But how do we fight her?” he asked, looking up.

“The board believes her. The public believes her.”

“The only way to clear my name is to prove where those accounts actually came from.”

“And we need leverage against her.”

I looked down at the carpet, thinking of my mother.

My mother had always told me stories about the founder of Carter Enterprises, Charles Carter.

She had worked for him years ago, before she met my stepfather.

She had always kept a locked wooden box under her bed in our old house in West Virginia.

She told me never to open it unless the family was in extreme danger.

“Nathan,” I said slowly.

“My mother… she used to talk about your grandfather, Charles.”

Nathan frowned. “My grandfather? He died when I was ten.”