I knew he’d planned to corner me, use his size and his legal clout to push me back, and paint me as unstable the moment I tried to speak.

He had no idea I was carrying certified bank transfer logs proving Richard had stolen four hundred thousand dollars from Ethan’s trust.

He had no idea I had Arthur Vance’s forensic audit tucked against my Kevlar armor.

I drew one slow breath and felt the stiff vest press out against my ribs.

I didn’t knock on the wood.

I reached out, laid my gloved hand on the brass latch of the double doors, and shoved them wide open.

My right combat boot came down on the courtroom’s hardwood floor with one sharp crack.