“Two minutes,” I tell the others.
Donovan straightens his tie and moves to stand beside Samantha’s chair. Protective. Ready. Samantha’s hands tighten in her lap, but her expression stays composed.
Footsteps echo on the wooden porch outside. The door opens, and Marcus steps inside first, his hand resting casually near his hip where I know he keeps his gun.
“Mr. Allen to see you, sir,” Marcus says formally.
“Thank you, Marcus. You can wait outside.”
Marcus nods once and steps back, pulling the door closed behind him but staying close enough that I know he’ll hear if anything goes wrong.
Robert walks into the room, and his confident smile falters the moment he sees Donovan and me standing there. His gaze sweeps across Samantha, then lands on the phone propped on the table showing Kai’s face, then returns to me.
“Grant Hale.” He recovers quickly and extends his hand like we’re old friends meeting for lunch. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
I don’t take his hand. “Sit down, Robert.”
His smile tightens at the edges, but he pulls out the chair across from me and settles into it with false confidence. He sets his briefcase on the table and clicks it open, pulling out a manila folder.
“Samantha,” he says, looking at her with warmth that makes my skin crawl. “I thought we’d be meeting privately.”
“Plans changed,” she says, and her voice doesn’t shake.
“I see.” Robert’s gaze shifts between Donovan and me, calculating his next move. “Well, I suppose we can discuss everything openly. After all, we’re all adults here who understand how business works.”
“What business is that?” I ask, crossing my arms.
Robert leans back in his chair and gestures to the folder he brought. “The kind where information has value. Samantha mentioned she’s gathered some interesting details about your operations over the past few weeks. Details that certain parties might find very valuable.”
“And what parties would those be?” Donovan asks, his voice dangerously calm.
“Let’s not play games.” Robert’s smile sharpens. “You run a very successful empire, Grant. Some people are curious about how you built it. The offshore accounts. The shell corporations. The business associates who prefer to stay out of the public eye.”
I move to the table and lean forward, palms flat on the polished wood. “You think you’re the first person to try blackmailing me?”
“I think I’m the first person with real leverage.” Robert taps his folder. “Samantha’s been very helpful. Haven’t you, sweetheart?”
Samantha flinches at the endearment, and rage burns hot in my chest.
“She has been helpful,” I agree. “Just not in the way you think.”
I pull out my own folder from the stack Donovan prepared. It’s easily three inches thick compared to Robert’s single thin file. Idrop it on the table between us with enough force that the sound echoes through the room.
“Open it,” I tell him.
Robert hesitates. His eyes flick to the folder, then to my face, searching for some hint of what he’s about to find. When he doesn’t get one, he flips open the cover.
His expression goes carefully blank as he sees the first page. Bank statements showing accounts in the Cayman Islands under his name. Large deposits that don’t match any legitimate source of income.
“Keep going,” Donovan says from behind Samantha’s chair.
Robert turns the page. Then another. Each one reveals a different piece of his carefully constructed lies. Gambling debts to multiple organizations. Embezzlement records from the Volkov operation. Wire transfers that trace back to money laundering schemes he’s been running for over a decade.
The color drains from his face.
“This is…” He trails off, fingers frozen on a page showing debts totaling over eight million dollars.
“This is everything you’ve done,” I finish. “Every crime. Every debt. Every lie you’ve told to stay ahead of the people hunting you.”
