Margo placed a device log beside the transfer record.
“The approval came from your personal tablet.
The same tablet connected to the Drake Hotel network that evening.”
Savannah lowered herself into a chair against the wall.
It was not the seat beside Grant.
It was the farthest seat from him.
Margo asked, “Were you at the Drake Hotel on March 12?”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“I attended a charitable event.”
“After the event?”
“I met with potential investors.”
“In a penthouse suite?”
“Yes.”
“With Ms.
Cole?”
Daniel objected, but Margo waited.
Grant finally answered.
“She was present briefly.”
Savannah stared at him.
They had spent the entire night together.
I knew because the hotel’s electronic lock records showed her key entering the suite at 10:18 p.m.
and leaving at 8:06 the next morning.
Grant’s key had never left.
Margo introduced those records without drama.
Grant claimed the meeting had continued late.
Then she introduced room-service receipts: champagne, strawberries, breakfast for two, and a bottle of wine charged at 1:13 a.m.
The corporate card had paid for everything.
“Was this part of the investor meeting?” Margo asked.
“Hospitality expenses are common.”
“Who were the investors?”
Grant said he could not remember.
Thomas Bell looked down.
Margo moved to the next transfer.
It was labeled executive communications strategy and sent $120,000 to Sable Creative Strategy.
“What work was delivered?”
“Brand consulting.”
“Where is the report?”
“I do not manage every document.”
“Where is the contract?”
“Legal would have it.”
Renee Wallace spoke from the back of the room.
“We do not.”
Grant turned toward her.
“You are not here to testify.”
“Correct,” Renee said.
“But the company has searched its contract system, email archive, board approvals, and vendor records.
There is no contract with Sable Creative Strategy.”
Savannah’s face lost color.
Margo faced her.
“Ms.
Cole, did you create any written report, campaign, analysis, or strategy for Parker Holdings?”
Daniel objected that Savannah was not under oath.
Savannah answered anyway.
“Grant said the payments were compensation for helping him privately.”
The room went still.
Grant’s voice dropped.
“Savannah.”
She looked at him with open fear.
“You told me it was approved.”
“Stop talking.”
Margo did not press her.
She let the silence work.
For eleven months, Grant and Savannah had believed they were united against me.
Their confidence depended on each trusting that the other would protect the story they had built.
Now the story was cracking between them.
Margo returned to the trust transfers.
One authorization form had been submitted in person at a bank branch near Savannah’s apartment.
My forged signature appeared at the bottom.
“Mr.
Parker, did you submit this document?”
“No.”
“Did you instruct anyone to submit it?”
“No.”
“Did Ms.
Cole submit it?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
Margo held up the evidence bag.
“Let us watch the video.”
Daniel requested a private conference with his client.
Margo agreed, and the deposition paused.
Grant and Daniel moved into the hallway.
Through the glass wall, I saw Daniel speaking with sharp, controlled gestures.
Grant shook his head repeatedly.
Once, he pointed toward me.
Savannah remained in the room.
She sat alone, hands clasped around her phone.
For the first time since the affair began, she looked less like a rival than a frightened woman realizing she had been used as
