His lawyer adjusted the leather strap of his shoulder bag and glanced at his silver wristwatch.

“My client is giving Mrs.

Vance three hours to remove her personal clothing from the residence,” the lawyer said.

I took a step toward the elevator doors, holding my dark wool coat folded tight over my forearm.

Julian walked over, his heavy leather dress shoes echoing on the cold gray floor tiles.

“You can walk away with your freedom, Audrey, or you can fight this and end up in handcuffs,” Julian whispered, stopping two feet away.

I looked at his navy necktie and turned toward the stairwell doors before his lawyer could hand me another paper.