Two agents led Salvatore Vale out into the cold.

He looked smaller than I remembered, his silver hair messy and his expensive wool coat draped loosely over his shoulders.

He did not look at the cameras.

“What about Richard and Camille?” I asked.

Isabella tapped the screen, switching the feed to a press conference outside the Hart Enterprises building downtown.

A spokesperson was reading a statement while police cars sat parked on the plaza behind them.

“The FBI seized their servers twenty minutes ago,” Isabella said.

“Camille was arrested at her penthouse trying to board a private flight,” she added.

I looked at Adrian, whose gray eyes were fixed on the tiny screen.

“They cannot recover from this,” Adrian said.

“The financial records I released show thirty years of joint money laundering between the Harts and my grandfather,” he said.

“The entire structure is going to collapse by morning,” Adrian added.

Noah let out a soft yawn and rested his forehead against my collarbone.

“We are safe,” I whispered into his hair, though my heart was still beating fast.