“And you helped him write those notes,” I said.

“I helped him organize his thoughts,” she said coldly, taking a small sip of her espresso.

“Until I realized he planned to keep the inheritance in a joint trust that needed his personal signature for every single withdrawal.

I don’t play second fiddle to a man who hides behind his wife’s family money.”

“Where are the signed evaluation forms?” I asked.

“In his private desk drawer at the office,” Sierra said, pulling her phone back across the marble and slipping it into her coat pocket.