“Elliot,” Bianca said, her voice trembling.

“I had no part in the financial restructuring. I only managed the accounts he assigned to me.”

“We will discuss your role tomorrow as well, Bianca,” Elliot said without looking at her.

“For now, I suggest you go home and prepare your own documentation.”

Robert, the attorney, picked up his leather briefcase and adjusted his glasses.

He looked at the papers on the silver tray, then at me.

“Mrs. Vance, we will require copies of the household ledgers as well,” Robert said.

“The personal accounts and the LLCs under your husband’s name.”

I nodded once, keeping my hands folded in front of my silk skirt.

“They are already prepared,” I said.

Graham turned his head so fast I heard the starch in his collar protest.

“You prepared them?” he whispered.

“You gave them our records?”

I did not answer him.

Elliot turned toward the heavy mahogany front door, his face pale under the entryway lights.

“We will see you at nine, Graham,” Elliot said.

He did not offer his hand.