The name on the signature card wasn’t a mistress. It wasn’t a secret lover or a high-priced divorce attorney he’d hired in secret.
It was Richard Vance.
Richard Vance was the managing partner of Vance & Associates, the prestigious real estate development firm that had spent the last eighteen months trying to hostilely acquire the historic downtown district—the very district my former firm, Henderson & Associates, represented.
Mark didn’t just want a divorce. He had been selling them out from the inside.
“He didn’t just hide assets, Clara,” Mrs. Henderson whispered, her sharp gray eyes narrowing as she adjusted her reading glasses. “He bridged the gap. He used your login credentials from your old consultant account to access the city zoning archives before the public hearing.”
