Margot showed up with the metal box, stacks of printed message logs, bank statements, and barely two hours of sleep—wrung out but strangely focused.
Janice went through every page without a single interruption, looking up just once, grim-faced, when she reached the part about the altered will.
“Do you have any idea how much money is actually tied up in this whole scheme of his?”
Margot swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat before she managed an answer.
“Between the properties, the hidden stock, and my book royalties, it’s well over fifty million dollars.”
Janice set her fountain pen down on the mahogany desk with a decisive click that seemed to echo in the quiet room.
“Then this isn’t just marital infidelity anymore. This whole setup reeks of large-scale fraud, illegal dispossession, and outright forgery.”
From that point on, everything moved at a pace Margot could barely keep up with.
Janice brought in a forensic accountant, a handwriting-verification specialist, and a senior colleague from the commercial law department to help with the paperwork.
She spread the stacks of documents across her enormous desk as if each page were a piece of a very dirty, very intricate puzzle.