And then the real disaster came up out of the numbers, and it was so much larger than my divorce.

Mason had not merely hidden a few assets to cheat me.

That was a small, ugly footnote to something enormous.

For fourteen straight months, he had been inflating SwiftFreight’s operational revenue — writing fraudulent invoices to shell suppliers he controlled, running money in circles to make it look like income, and siphoning hundreds of millions of dollars out of the company’s budget along the way.

Underneath the glossy nine-billion-dollar valuation, the real SwiftFreight was bleeding out.