Celeste released my hair and pointed at an apron. “Start cooking.”
“No.”
Adrian’s smile vanished. He seized my wrist. “You are my wife.”
“Not your employee. Not your property.”
Damian entered carrying a leather folder. “Stop being dramatic. The health inspector signed off.”
I recognized the signature immediately. The inspector had retired three years earlier.
“You forged it,” I said.
Damian laughed too loudly. “Prove it.”
That was when his campaign manager, Ellis, kicked a blue accounting ledger beneath a prep table. The cover matched a photograph Lucas had shown me during our last secret meeting. It contained handwritten payments to contractors, police officials, and zoning-board members. The task force had traced the money but never found the original record.
I crouched slowly, pretending dizziness, and pressed the emergency button on my watch twice. The microphone began uploading audio to a secure cloud folder.
Celeste shoved an apron into my chest. “Five hundred meals. Then you may sleep.”
