I stood up and walked to the small safe hidden behind the bookshelf.

I spun the dial, the clicks sounding loud in the empty room.

I pulled out the physical folder containing the banking records my investigator had retrieved from the offshore registry.

I laid them on the mahogany desk next to my phone.

The pieces of the puzzle were finally fitting together.

Ethan thought he had until tomorrow morning to force my hand with his lawyers.

He believed I would sign the separation agreement to avoid a public scandal.

He believed I was still the quiet, accommodating wife who cared more about appearances than survival.

I sat back down in my leather chair and opened my laptop.

I drafted a new email.

The recipient was Arthur Vance.

Arthur was the founding partner of the firm, a man who had known my father for forty years.

He was a traditionalist who valued the firm’s reputation above all else.

“Arthur,” I wrote.

“I have urgent information regarding the upcoming Q3 audit that cannot wait for the general meeting.”

“I require an emergency session of the executive committee tomorrow morning at eight o’clock.”