Before we reached the altar, my three-year-old grandson squeezed my hand and whispered, “Grandpa, she was mean to Mommy.” Then he pointed toward my future wife and pulled a USB drive from his tiny pocket—one that would soon reveal the truth she had been hiding.

I closed my eyes.

“What happened?”

She whispered.

“Did Lucas give you the drive?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“What happened?”

She hesitated.

Then said.

“I found documents.”

“Monica has been copying your signatures.”

“I know.”

“She’s trying to move assets.”

“I know.”

“There’s someone helping her.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“She calls him Rafael sometimes.”

R.

My stomach tightened.

Sofia continued.

“I confronted her yesterday.”

“She said I had no right to interfere.”

“She hit me.”

“Then pushed me.”

“I fell.”

PART 19