He quickly slipped his hand into his coat pocket, the brass key disappearing from sight.

“Is there a problem out here?” I asked, looking between them.

“Your husband seems very interested in his mother’s private keys,” Julian said, his eyes fixed on Graham.

“I was just looking for my briefcase,” Graham said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

He looked past me, his eyes landing on the wall safe behind Marjorie.

Marjorie stepped out of the study, her face pale as she saw Graham standing so close to the library.

“Graham,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “Go home. Now.”

Graham didn’t answer. He just stared at his mother, a cold, calculating look in his eyes.

He turned and walked down the grand staircase, his heavy boots echoing against the marble.

Marjorie watched him go, her hand trembling as she gripped the doorframe.

I looked back at the wall safe, then at the desk, realizing that the keys to her blackmail files were no longer where she had left them.

Marjorie’s hand was still shaking on the doorframe.

Julian stepped past her, his eyes scanning the desk drawer.