His expensive suit was ruined by the rain, clinging to his thin frame.

His hair was wet, plastered to his forehead.

He looked up at me with sneering eyes.

“Steel,” he said. “This is kidnapping.”

“You crossed my perimeter,” I said, standing over him. “You threatened my family.”

“Those kids are not your family,” he hissed. “They are Vance’s. Their father is dead, and Eleanor is their legal guardian.”

“Not anymore,” I said. “Eleanor signed away her rights when she left them in a public terminal.”

“She did not sign anything legal,” Marcus said. “We have the papers. The estate belongs to us.”

“The courts will decide that,” I said. “And right now, the courts are looking at your bank records.”

He paled slightly.

“What bank records?” he asked.

“The ones showing the wire transfers from the twins’ trust to an account in the Cayman Islands,” I said. “The ones with your signature on them.”

He stared at me, his mouth opening slightly.

“You cannot have those,” he whispered.

“I have many things, Marcus,” I said. “Including the federal prosecutor on my speed dial.”