“Why would I explain anything to you?” she asked, crossing her legs.

“You think you’re the hero of this story.”

“My father was an honorable man,” I said.

“Your father was a pragmatist,” she corrected, her smile widening.

“And he was the one who built the foundation for everything Cole and I did.”

“He didn’t know about the black accounts,” I said, my fists clenching at my sides.

“Oh, he knew,” Vanessa said, leaning forward.

The light caught the sharp lines of her cheekbones, making her look predatory.

“He knew exactly where the money was going.”

“You’re lying,” I whispered.

“Am I?” she asked, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

“Ask yourself, Eleanor.”

“Why do you think he died when he did?”

I stared at her, the coldness in my chest turning to ice.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“He tried to turn it off,” she said.

“He realized what we were doing with the network he built.”

“And he wanted to shut it down.”

“But once you let the devil in, you don’t get to ask him to leave.”