Just then, the intercom near the elevator chimed, its sharp ring cutting through the silence of the room.

Gabriel stood up and walked to the wall monitor.

He looked at the screen, his expression hardening.

“It’s Vanessa,” he said, turning back to me.

“She’s downstairs.”

“Tell security to hold her in the lobby for five minutes,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Gabriel nodded and tapped a button on the wall monitor.

“Keep her downstairs for a moment, Marcus,” Gabriel said into the intercom. “Give us five minutes.”

“Understood, Mr. Vale,” the security guard’s voice crackled back.

I turned my attention back to the thick paper in my hands.

The scent of faded lavender drifted up as I unfolded the sheets.

My eyes traced my mother’s elegant, sloping handwriting, a script I had not seen in five years.

“Your father has lost himself to greed, Claire,” she wrote.

“He has taken millions from the foundation, and he believes he can hide the deficit forever.”

“When I confronted him, he threatened to ruin you and Vanessa.”

“He told me he would make sure neither of you ever worked in this city again.”