The Grandmother

The network didn’t whisper. It roared.

Within twenty-four hours, three women Marcus had paid to disappear were sitting in lawyers’ offices with boxes of documents. Two more were on background with journalists who’d been circling the Wolfe empire for years, waiting for a crack. One woman, a former executive assistant who’d signed an NDA so restrictive it should have been illegal, was in a sterile room in Quantico telling an FBI agent about offshore accounts and a man who’d threatened her children by name.