She leaned in, her voice barely a breath.

“I can give you the master key, Vivian.”

“It will give you access to his secure accounts, including the authorization portal for the trust.”

I looked at her, my mind calculating the risks.

“And what do you want in exchange?” I asked.

“Immunity,” she said instantly.

“I want a signed agreement from you and your attorney.”

“No lawsuit for the dress, no criminal charges, and no mention of my name to the press.”

I looked at Matteo, whose face was unreadable in the dim light of the dressing room.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily.

“I can’t sign anything without Grace,” I said.

“Then call her,” Sloane urged.

“We don’t have time.”

“If that transfer goes through at midnight, Harrison wins.”

“He will have the funds cleared through offshore accounts before the courts can even issue an injunction.”

I knew she was right. Once the money left the Bennett Trust, tracing it would take years.

By then, Aster Hall would be sold, and the Ashford Empire would have swallowed my mother’s legacy.