Ava said nothing.
His face twisted.
“Who has it, Ava?”
The elevator chimed.
All three of them looked toward the private doors.
Grant’s security code had been disabled earlier that evening.
He did not know that yet.
He had been too busy showing Savannah the penthouse.
He had been too busy making sure Ava saw the mistress in the red dress.
He had been too busy believing humiliation was a weapon only he knew how to use.
The doors opened.
Senator Victoria Wren walked in wearing a white wool coat, black gloves, and the kind of calm that made expensive men check their posture.
She was sixty-one years old.
Silver-haired.
Straight-backed.
Famous for destroying three corrupt governors, one defense contractor, and a Supreme Court nominee who had once laughed at her during a hearing.
On television, commentators called her ruthless.
In Washington, lobbyists called her worse.
Ava called her Mom.
Grant’s face lost color.
“Victoria.”
Senator Wren did not look at him.
Her eyes went straight to her daughter on the floor.
Then to the hand on Ava’s belly.
Then to the arm.
For one second, nothing moved.
Not Grant.
Not Savannah.
Not the marshals behind her.
Then Victoria removed her gloves one finger at a time.
“Get my daughter medical help,” she said.
One marshal stepped forward immediately, speaking into his radio.
Grant lifted a hand. “This is a family matter.”
Victoria finally looked at him.
“No,” she said. “It became federal the moment you touched my daughter after threatening a witness.”
Savannah’s mouth opened.
Grant turned toward Ava.
“A witness?”
Ava held his gaze.
Grant’s breathing changed.
He understood.
Not all of it.
Not yet.
But enough.
Enough to know the ground beneath him had moved.
Enough to know Ava had not come to tonight’s anniversary dinner unprepared.
Enough to know the wife he had dismissed as soft, pregnant, and dependent had been sitting across from him for six months with a recorder in her purse and a federal cooperation agreement in her lawyer’s safe.
Savannah took a step back.
Her heel crunched on broken crystal.
“Grant,” she whispered, “what is she talking about?”
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