Grant stood frozen in the kitchen with the phone pressed to his ear while his mother and Brielle stared at him. “Miss Whitmore?” he repeated. The butler answered politely, “Yes, sir. Mr. Whitmore will call you himself tomorrow at nine.” Then the line went dead. Grant’s mother grabbed her phone, typed the name Whitmore into the search bar, and read the first result. Her hands began to shake.

Grant dropped onto a chair and read the headline over her shoulder. Charles Whitmore, founder of Whitmore Freight, one of the largest shipping companies on the East Coast. Beneath it was a photo of Tessa beside him at a charity gala, wearing the same smile Grant had fallen in love with. Brielle whispered, “Mom, your text.” Grant’s mother looked up. Then his phone buzzed with a message from Tessa’s lawyer, and the first line made him stop breathing.