The Price of Stealing from the Quiet Daughter of a Powerful Empire
*Evelyn, Nolan doesn’t know I’m sending this. Look at the bank routing numbers on page four.*
My hand trembled as I downloaded the attachment.
I scrolled down to the fourth page of the document.
My eyes widened as I read the names of the offshore accounts.
The money from the Delaware loan hadn’t gone to the Riverview project at all.
It had been transferred to a private account in the Cayman Islands under a name I knew all too well.
Before I could process the name, the heavy oak door of my bedroom slowly creaked open.
I turned, expecting to see my father.
Instead, a shadow fell across the hardwood floor.
A figure stood in the dim light of the hallway.
The leather shoes clicked sharply against the threshold.
It was Marjorie Pierce.
She carried a thick, cream-colored envelope under her arm.
Her expensive camel-hair coat was dry, but a few stray drops of rain glistened on her pearl necklace.
“I see you are still hiding in the dark, Evelyn,” she said.
She did not wait for an invitation.