“I didn’t expect to see you here on a Tuesday morning,” Marisol added, her voice clipping every syllable.

“Miami is a small city, Marisol,” Vance said.

He adjusted his silk tie, his eyes sliding over me with a look of quiet assessment.

“Especially when it comes to assets that are currently contested in a dissolution of marriage,” he added.

“The safety deposit box is registered in my client’s name,” Marisol said.

“And my client’s name,” Vance countered smoothly.

“Which means we have every right to access it,” Marisol said, her hand tightening on her briefcase.

Vance smiled again, showing a row of perfectly white teeth.

“Of course you do,” he said. “But before you sign the register, I think we should have a brief conversation.”

He gestured toward a row of glass-walled offices near the back of the lobby.

“The branch manager was kind enough to let us use an empty office for a few minutes,” Vance said.

“We have nothing to discuss with you without proper notice,” Marisol said.

“I think Elena will want to hear this,” Vance said, looking directly at me.