I pulled out a single, blue-backed document, stamped with a gold seal.

“I would like to submit the original, certified incorporation file for Rourke Regional Mobility.”

Philip Dane scoffed, not even looking up from his digital tablet.

“Your Honor, the corporate structure of RRM has already been established in our financial disclosures,” Dane said.

“The prenup clearly states that Mr. Rourke is the sole founder and owner of the company.”

“I am aware of what your paperwork says, Mr. Dane,” Judge Beckett said.

She gestured to the bailiff, who stepped forward and took my document.

The bailiff carried the folder up to the bench and placed it directly in front of the judge.

The silence in the room stretched.

Gavin turned his head slightly, giving me a cold, patronizing smirk.

He whispered something to Dane, who nodded and patted his shoulder in reassurance.

Judge Beckett opened the blue cover.

She flipped past the cover sheet, her fingers making a sharp scraping sound against the thick paper.

Her eyes moved left to right, scanning the lines of the original filing.

Then, she stopped.

She adjusted her glasses, leaning closer to the page.

The rain outside seemed to beat harder against the glass, the only sound in the silent courtroom.

Gavin shifted in his leather chair, the wood creaking under his weight.

“Mr. Rourke,” Judge Beckett said.

Her voice had lost its flat, procedural tone.

Gavin sat up straighter, adjusting his blue silk tie.

“Yes, Your Honor?” he said, his voice smooth and cooperative.

Judge Beckett tapped her pen against the top corner of the document.

“I am looking at the original articles of organization filed with the state of Maryland eight years ago.”

She looked over her glasses, her gaze locking onto Gavin.

“Can you explain why the very first name listed under the founding entity’s ownership structure is not yours?”