Russell’s hand shook as he read the card. “Pinnacle Harbor Capital,” he whispered. “Managing partner. Walter Brennan.” Victoria leaned over his shoulder, and her lips parted without a sound. Spencer stopped smirking. At the far end of the alcove, Charlotte stared at me, then at Nathan, whose mouth hung open. “Dad?” he said quietly. “What is this?”

“Your loan committee meets Thursday,” I said, folding my hands. “I chair it. And the bridge financing that vanished on you was pulled under my signature, Mr. Ashford, because I did not like your numbers.” Russell’s face went gray. Then Spencer pushed back his chair, and I saw what he was holding under the table: a phone, recording everything, and a look of pure panic that told me Russell was not the only Ashford hiding something.