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.

Before I could ask another question, Monica noticed us.

Her smile disappeared.

Only for a second.

Then it returned.

She walked toward us.

“Victor, darling.”

“The coordinator is looking everywhere for you.”

Lucas moved behind me.

Monica glanced down at him.

Her smile tightened.

I slipped the USB into my jacket pocket.

“I need five minutes.”

She laughed lightly.

“For what?”

“Just five minutes.”

Then she looked at Lucas again.

“What did he tell you?”

I held her gaze.

“Grandfather-and-grandson things.”

She stopped smiling.

“This isn’t the time for games.”

“We have guests waiting.”

“The local press is here.”

“Your business partner is already seated.”

“You cannot leave me standing there.”

I answered quietly.

“I said five minutes.”

PART 5