“Yes, I have an electronic filing system connected directly to the county clerk’s office,” he said.

“It will be processed at 8:00 AM sharp, and the deputies will have the warrants by nine.”

I watched him draft the documents, the legal language looking cold and final on the bright screen.

*Emily Vance vs. Arthur Vance, Helen Vance, and Brooke Vance.*

It felt strange to see our names written that way, stripped of any familial warmth.

But the betrayal had gone too deep, and there was no turning back now.

“That’s done,” Daniel said, clicking the mouse with a sharp snap. “The sheriff will serve them at the estate tomorrow.”

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes.

“Now we have to focus on Gavin,” he said, his expression turning serious.

“His bail hearing is scheduled for ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

My stomach tightened at the mention of my husband’s name.

“Do you think his lawyers can get him out?” I asked.

“Not if I finish this,” Daniel said, tapping a thick blue folder on his desk.

“This is the complete forensic audit of the restaurant group’s accounts.”