I didn’t answer him.

I walked out of the office and down to the street, where a black car with a driver was waiting at the curb, and in a little under four hours my daughters and I would be on a plane out of the country.

What Bryce did not know yet — what it had never once occurred to him to find out — was that the penthouse where he planned to install his new life, the SUV he bragged about to his golf partners, and a very large share of the lavish existence he believed he had built with his own two hands had never, for one single day, belonged to him.

Chapter 7 — Are You Going to Spain?