“The fake one is the version your clinic director altered — after Roman wired him seventy-five thousand dollars.” And then the dashcam played, and Larissa’s own drunk voice filled the ballroom over the trembling champagne tower — I’ll say Adeline did it.

Roman promised me half once she’s gone — and two hundred wedding guests stood in perfect, horrified silence and listened to the marriage they’d come to celebrate confess itself.

Roman lunged for the projector.

A detective caught his arm before he’d taken two steps.

“Careful,” I said.

“You’re already making excellent footage.”

Chapter 15 — Naked at Last

The federal agent read the warrants out into the silence, and each charge landed like a hammer on a nail: fraud, obstruction, witness tampering, conspiracy, perjury.