My Husband Led His Mistress to My $4.8 Million Lake Villa to Humi.li.ate Me and Make Me Sign It Over—But Her Husband and the Owner Were Already Waiting Inside!

I looked down at his hand.

He released me.

“No,” I said. “You planned it for months. I documented it for six weeks.”

His eyes burned.

“You think you’re cleaner than me?”

“I think I didn’t steal six million dollars.”

“You benefited from every connection I made.”

“And you benefited from every building I designed.”

His phone rang.

He looked at the screen and immediately rejected the call.

His face changed.

Fear.

Not of me.

Of someone tied to the money.

Grant stepped closer.

“You have no idea what you’ve opened.”

“Then explain it.”

He walked away.

That evening, I received a message from Grant’s executive assistant, Evan Price.

PLEASE CALL ME. NOT SAFE AT OFFICE.

Evan was thirty-one, recently married, with a newborn daughter.

He had worked for Grant for four years.

When we spoke, his voice shook.

“He made me upload the power of attorney.”

My grip tightened on the phone.

“Did you know it was forged?”

“Not at first.”

“What changed?”

“I saw the original later.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because Grant said he would destroy me.”

I closed my eyes.

“Where are you?”

He hesitated.

“I shouldn’t have called.”

“Evan.”

“He knows someone is talking.”

“Where are you?”

The line went dead.

Nolan used a private investigator to trace Evan’s last known location.

An abandoned marina south of the city.

I drove there with security.

Rain had started again.

The parking lot was nearly empty.

Near the water stood Evan.

And Grant.

Grant had one hand gripping Evan’s jacket.

I stepped out of the SUV.

“Let him go.”

Grant spun around.

Shock crossed his face.

Then rage.

“You really can’t stay out of anything, can you?”

Evan tried to pull backward.