They had made a simple mistake, Nathan and his mother, the kind of mistake that arrogance always makes.

They had forgotten who I was before I became Nathan’s fragile, decorative wife.

Before Nathan, I had been a corporate fraud attorney, and a very good one.

I spent my days inside the architecture of other people’s lies — shell companies nested inside shell companies, contracts written to be misread, assets that existed in three countries and nowhere at all, signatures that meant the opposite of what they said.

I did not merely recognize deception when I saw it.