The Marriage Clause
He looked up as Amara entered, his eyes widening.
“Amara,” he said, leaning forward against the cuffs. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“You sent the message,” she accused, sitting across from him. “Why?”
Tari glanced at the door, then leaned in. “Because Vincent wasn’t lying. There’s another player—someone on the board. They’ve been siphoning funds longer than Obsidian. Vincent was just a front.”
Amara’s heart raced. “Who?”
Tari shook his head. “I don’t know. But they contacted me last night, offered a deal—my freedom for your shares. I said no, but they’ll come for you.”