Nolan’s face went from pale to a dark, angry red.

“Sloane,” he whispered.

“She set me up.”

“No,” I said.

“You set yourself up when you decided to steal from my family.”

“You thought I was just a quiet girl who restored old tables.”

“You thought I wouldn’t notice when you took fifty thousand here, a hundred thousand there.”

“You thought my father would just write it off.”

“Evelyn, please,” Nolan said, taking a step toward me, his hands held out.

“I did it for us.”

“I did it to build a future for Maisie.”

“Do not use my daughter’s name,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

“You tried to kidnap her to use as leverage against my father.”

“You tried to run with your mother and the money you stole.”

Marjorie stepped forward, her expensive jewelry clinking together.

“You little mouse,” she spat, her eyes wild.

“You think your family’s name makes you special?”

“My son built that business.”

“He deserved every penny.”

“He didn’t build anything, Marjorie,” I said, looking her dead in the eye.

“He signed papers that Sloane prepared.”