Nathan Ashford stood beneath the archway of the grand foyer, his tailored charcoal suit damp from the rain outside, a leather travel bag still slung over his shoulder.

Nathan didn't flinch. He didn't jump, scream, or step back. Instead, with a motion so smooth it seemed rehearsed, he stepped directly in front of me, placing his tall frame between the barrel of Victoria’s gun and my chest.

"Put the gun down, Victoria," Nathan said, his voice terrifyingly calm.

"She’s lying to you, Nathan!" Victoria cried, her hands shaking as she aimed the silver weapon at Nathan’s chest. "She’s a spy! My father warned me about her! She was planted in this house by the Securities Commission to build a fake case against Ashford Capital!"

"Your father warned you?" I called out from behind Nathan’s shoulder, my voice steady. "Or your father told you that the audit team was coming next month, and you needed to bleed four million dollars out of Nathan’s accounts before your engagement party so you could cover the losses in your family's real estate firm?"

Victoria’s eyes darted toward me, wide with a mixture of terror and unhinged fury. "Shut up! Shut your mouth!"

"It wasn't just four million, was it, Victoria?" I continued, stepping slightly to the side so I could see her face. "The Sterling & Vance firm lost eighty million dollars in a bad commercial property development in Chicago last year. You didn't steal that money for jewelry or dresses. You stole it to pay off the Russian mezzanine lenders who threatened to seize your family’s estate in Aspen."

Victoria’s breath hitched. The hand holding the gun dropped an inch. "How... how do you know about Aspen?"

"Because forensic accountants don't just read bank statements, Victoria," I said coldly. "We read property liens. Your father’s company filed a fraudulent secondary mortgage on the Aspen house six weeks ago. The signature on the deed was notarized by your friend Madison."

Nathan took a slow, deliberate step forward toward Victoria. "You brought a gun into my home, Victoria. You brought criminals into my company. And you used my trust to fund your family’s sinking ship."

"Nathan, please!" Victoria sobbed, her composure entirely vanishing as she fell back against the doorframe. "I loved you! I did this because my father forced me! He said if I didn't get the money from your accounts, they would destroy us! We were supposed to be married! Everything I did was for our future!"

"No," Nathan said, taking another step until he was standing directly in front of the barrel. He reached out with his bare hand, wrapped his fingers around the cylinder of the pistol, and gently, firmly pulled it from her weak grip. "You did it because you think people are objects to be used, abused, and kicked aside when they get in your way."

Nathan cycled the action of the pistol, ejected the magazine, and dropped the bullets into his pocket.

"Marcus!" Nathan called out.

The butler appeared in the hallway behind Victoria instantly, accompanied by two heavy-set private security officers in dark suits.

"Take Miss Hale to the guest quarters," Nathan ordered without looking at her. "Lock the doors. Seize her phone, her laptop, and her personal belongings. If she attempts to leave before the federal agents arrive tomorrow morning, use whatever physical force is necessary."

"Nathan! No! You can't do this to me!" Victoria shrieked as the security guards grabbed her arms, dragging her backward down the carpeted hallway. "I am a Vance! My family will ruin you! You’ll be broke by Monday!"

Her screams faded down the long corridor until a heavy oak door slammed shut, leaving only the sound of the rain against the windowpane.

Nathan turned back to me. He looked exhausted, the lines around his eyes deeper than before, but his posture remained unbroken.

"You have twenty-four hours to prepare the full financial audit, Elena," Nathan said, walking back to his desk. "On Sunday morning, we meet Richard Vance and his board of directors at the Ashford Headquarters downtown."

"I only need twelve hours, Mr. Ashford," I replied, pulling the apron strings untied from behind my waist and letting the dark cloth fall to the floor. "And please... call me Elena."