It was sitting in an account under my maiden name, Ava Vance.

I had never opened that account.

“What is it?” Elias asked.

His voice was too quiet, too controlled.

He was watching my face, looking for any crack in my composure.

“Nothing,” I said, sliding the phone back into my purse.

The fabric of my bag felt rough against my shaking fingers.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Elias said.

He leaned back in his leather chair, the wood creaking softly under his weight.

Outside, the gray Boston rain began to smear against the floor-to-ceiling glass.

I could see my reflection in the dark window, pale and small against the backdrop of the city.

I needed a moment to think, but my mind was racing.

Daniel had not sent that money to help me.

If the SEC looked at this transaction, they would not see a victim of a bad marriage.

They would see a wife who took a ten-million-dollar bribe to leak proprietary data.

They would see a criminal.

Daniel would step into the vacuum left by Elias’s ruin, completely clean.