"It's not an accusation. It's a fact." Vivienne stepped forward, tablet in hand. "I have the records. Every transaction, every transfer, every discrepancy between the official books and your private financial statements. Father collected them before he died, and I've spent the last twelve hours organizing them into a presentation that any forensic accountant would find extremely compelling."
"And any journalist," Cassidy added, her smile sharp as a knife. "Can you imagine the headlines? 'Ice Queen Valentine Steals from Own Children.' 'Beloved CEO Forges Dead Husband's Will.' It would be everywhere. Every magazine, every blog, every news outlet in the country. Your reputation, your legacy, everything you spent twenty years building, gone in a news cycle."
Camille's jaw went tight. The muscles worked beneath her skin, pulling her mouth into a thin, bloodless line.
"You wouldn't dare." The words came out low, dangerous. Not a question. A warning.
