My voice was steady, completely devoid of the panic they expected to hear.

Vance paused, his brow furrowing as he reached for his tactical radio.

Daniel chuckled, shaking his head at me. “Still trying to bluff? The signatures are all there, Maya. You signed the transfer of the resort’s offshore holdings.”

“I signed nothing of the sort,” I said.

I looked past him to Mr. Han, who stood by the grand entrance.

Mr. Han stepped forward, his pale face returning to its normal, calm color as he carried a thick leather binder.

He handed a single sheet of paper to Agent Vance.

“What is that?” Vivian demanded, her voice rising an octave.

“This is the charter for the Arden Heritage Trust,” I said, my eyes locking onto Daniel.

Daniel’s smile faltered slightly, his eyes darting to the paper in the agent’s hands.

“My grandfather, Arthur Arden, set up that trust thirty years ago,” I continued.

“What does your grandfather’s dead trust have to do with us?” Claire sneered, crossing her arms.

“Everything, Claire,” I said.

“The Mercer Group, your family’s entire investment firm, was funded by that trust,” I said.