She had taken my husband, my dignity, and the life I had built.

But she was still my sister, and she was walking into a trap designed by a monster.

“I have to stop him,” I said.

“You can’t just accuse him,” Melanie warned, reaching out to touch my wrist. “He has the offshore accounts, the documents, the leverage. If you strike too early, he’ll trigger the trap and run.”

“He’s already running,” I said, gesturing to Chloe’s text message. “He’s packing his desk.”

“He’s packing his office desk,” Melanie corrected. “That doesn’t mean he’s leaving the state today. He has to secure the funds first.”

I rubbed my temples, trying to force my brain to think three steps ahead.

I needed proof that Lucas was the one controlling Chloe’s account.

I needed the digital signatures, the IP addresses, the communication between them.

“Chloe has the key,” I said.

“What do you mean?” Melanie asked.

“Her phone,” I said. “She’ll have the banking apps. She’ll have the texts where he tells her what to sign, or where he asks for her personal details.”