She asked me to wait. Thirty minutes later, Martin walked in with a bank attorney.

They showed me three years of transactions. The account wasn’t inactive. It had been receiving money, regularly, from several shell companies. One had been registered using my home address.

Another listed Lauren as its managing member. A third was linked to the Mercer redevelopment fund.

My first reaction was disbelief. My second was humiliation. The woman I trusted and the man I called my brother hadn’t only been meeting behind my back.

They’d been using my identity, my address, and my reputation to protect themselves.

Then Martin showed me something worse. The account in Lauren’s name had been designed to receive the final transfer. If anyone discovered the missing Mercer money, every document would point at her.