A trust amendment.

Nate read it.

His face drained.

He stepped closer to the screen.

“No.”

Olivia closed her eyes.

The amendment transferred several of Nate’s business holdings upon his death into a trust controlled not merely by Olivia.

But by a private corporation.

Ashford Legacy Holdings LLC.

Nate stared at Olivia.

“What is that?”

She said nothing.

“Olivia.”

Her lips trembled.

“It’s complicated.”

“Then simplify it.”

Evelyn answered instead.

“The company was incorporated eight years ago.”

Nate turned.

“So?”

“One year before you met Olivia.”

Evelyn changed slides.

Another record.

Registered organizer:

Simon Vale.

The ballroom exploded.

People began speaking all at once.

Nate grabbed the back of a chair.

Olivia turned toward Evelyn.

“You don’t understand any of this.”

“Then explain it.”

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“You owe him one.”

Olivia looked at Nate.

For a moment, she seemed about to speak.

Then her expression hardened.

“You always hated me.”

Evelyn almost laughed.

“This isn’t about whether I like you.”

“You’ve been waiting for this.”

“No.”

“You never thought I was good enough for your family.”

Evelyn stepped closer.

“I thought you were wonderful for my brother.”

That seemed to surprise Olivia.

“I defended you when Mom didn’t trust you. I defended you when relatives whispered about how quickly the engagement happened. I stood beside you when you chose that dress.”

Her voice cracked.

“I was supposed to stand beside you tonight.”

Olivia stared at her.

“Then why are you doing this?”

Evelyn looked at Nate.

“Because I would rather have my brother hate me alive than love me until somebody buries him.”

Nate’s face collapsed.

“Ev…”

Evelyn looked away.

Then she lifted her phone.

“There are additional documents.”

Olivia stepped forward.

“What documents?”

“Medical records.”

Olivia froze.

Evelyn saw it.

So did Nate.

“What medical records?” he asked.

Olivia said nothing.

Evelyn opened the message she had prepared.

Attached were photographs of records.

Toxicology reports.

Insurance correspondence.

Private emails.

And something else.

A file she hadn’t shown anyone.

Nate moved closer.

“Who are you sending those to?”

Evelyn’s thumb hovered over the blue button.

“To someone who can determine whether Simon’s death deserves another investigation.”

Olivia lunged forward.

“Don’t.”

It came out too quickly.

Too desperately.

Nate grabbed Olivia’s arm.

She jerked away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Evelyn looked at her phone.

Then at Olivia.

“You said I didn’t understand.”

“You don’t.”

“Then tell me.”

Olivia’s eyes filled with tears.

“You’ll destroy everything.”

Evelyn whispered:

“Maybe some things deserve to be destroyed.”

Her thumb moved.

Nate saw the recipient.

His face went pale.

Because Evelyn wasn’t sending the files to a journalist.

She wasn’t sending them to police.

She wasn’t sending them to a lawyer.

The recipient read: