“Look at the dates of the transfers,” Margaret said. “They started before you were even married.”

I froze.

The room seemed to tilt slightly.

I scrolled back up to the first invoice.

The date at the top of the page was October fourteenth, four years ago.

Nathan and I had met in November of that year.

He had been targeting my family before he ever knew my name.

My stomach tightened, a sharp pain reminding me of the life growing inside me.

I took a slow, deep breath, placing my hand over my belly.

“He targeted me,” I whispered.

“Yes,” Margaret said. “And Sloane was the vehicle.”

“We have to stop them,” I said. “We have to stop that article from running.”

“The reporter won’t run a fake medical report if we hand them a federal embezzlement story instead,” Margaret said.

“But how do we prove the connection between Sloane’s firm and Nathan’s personal accounts?” I asked.

“We need the physical ledger from the office,” Margaret said. “The one Nathan keeps in his study at the penthouse.”