“Which one is Liam?”

I pointed. His hand shook against the glass.

Dominic pulled himself together enough to step forward. “Mr. Crestwood, I can explain why I’m here.”

Grandfather straightened up slowly. “You are here because my granddaughter nearly died delivering my great-grandchildren.”

Natalie’s fingers slid off Dominic’s arm.

“Granddaughter?” he croaked.

Sophia took the divorce folder out of his hand. She skimmed three pages, then smiled without a trace of warmth.

“You emptied marital accounts while your wife was sedated, concealed assets, and demanded her signature forty-eight hours after major surgery, with no counsel present,” she said. “A signature isn’t a divorce decree, Mr. Vance. It’s evidence.”

Dominic’s eyes darted toward the exits.

The general counsel opened another file. “Vance Medical Supply holds contracts with eleven Crestwood hospitals. Our preliminary audit turned up duplicate invoices, falsified delivery records, and payments routed to a consulting firm owned by Ms. Natalie Cross.”

Natalie took a step back. “I don’t own any company.”

Sophia held up a registration document. “Then someone forged your signature remarkably well.”

Dominic’s arrogance fractured, but not all the way. “This is intimidation. You can’t destroy my business because she called her rich grandfather.”

“No,” I said, finally turning to face him. “But your fraud can.”