I stepped into his path.

“Would you like to explain your financial strategy to everyone yourself, Mason?” I asked, quietly.

“Or would you rather we simply played your own voice over the speakers?”

I lifted my phone and signaled the event’s AV technician, who was already holding the verified master file, checked by my legal counsel.

And Mason’s voice — loud, arrogant, proud — suddenly filled that enormous ballroom, every word he had gloated to a frightened woman he thought was harmless.

It was not a recording of dull numbers.