“You allowed him to put your apartment through the company?”
Vanessa’s face flushed.
“I didn’t know.”
“You knew he was married,” Grace said quietly.
Vanessa looked at the bracelet and had no answer.
Preston pointed at Grace.
“She handled the books.
If anything was misclassified, it happened under her login.”
That accusation was the reason Grace had begun keeping copies.
Six months earlier, she had noticed invoices being edited after approval.
The amounts stayed the same, but the vendor names changed.
A hotel became consulting services.
A jeweler became an architectural supplier.
A car lease became equipment transport.
Grace had asked Preston about the entries.
He told her she was confused.
The next week, her access to the main accounting system was reduced.
So Grace began exporting monthly audit logs to an encrypted drive.
She had not known whose apartment was being paid for or whose wrist wore the jewelry.
She had only known someone was using her credentials after midnight.
She opened her purse and removed a small silver drive.
Preston stared at it.
“What is that?”
“The original audit logs.”
Naomi accepted the drive with gloved hands and placed it inside an evidence sleeve.
Preston’s expression changed.
For the first time that evening, he looked less angry than frightened.
Charles rounded on him.
“How much?”
Naomi answered before Preston could.
“We have identified just over four million dollars in questionable expenses.
That does not include the transfers made through two consulting companies created last year.”
Charles lowered himself into his chair.
Margaret’s pearls rose and fell with each breath.
Preston turned to Vanessa.
“Give me your phone.”
She pulled it against her chest.
“Why?”
“Because private messages can be misunderstood.”
Vanessa’s confidence had vanished.
She looked from Preston to the auditors, then to the divorce papers bearing Grace’s forged signature.
“You said the divorce was already settled,” she whispered.
“You said Grace had signed everything.”
Preston moved toward her.
“Vanessa.”
She stood and stepped away from him.
“You said the company was yours.
You said the house could never be touched because it had been in your family for generations.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
Vanessa unlocked her phone and placed it on the table.
“There are messages,” she said.
“And voice notes.”
Preston lunged for it.
The estate manager caught his arm before he reached the device.
The gesture humiliated him more than any shouted accusation could have.
