“You were the CEO of this hospital,” Thomas corrected, his voice echoing in the dead-quiet corridor.
Grant blinked. “What?”
Thomas raised the leather-bound file, slapping it against his open palm with a sound like a gunshot.
“Two hours ago, a federal judge signed a seventy-page indictment based on the contents of this file,” Thomas stated, his eyes locking onto Grant’s with unblinking ferocity. “Wire fraud. Embezzlement. Corporate espionage. And the systematic draining of the Vance Family Trust—my daughter’s inheritance—to illegally fund the construction of this very wing.”
Grant’s face drained of color, leaving him looking like a wax figure melting under the lights. “That’s… that’s impossible. You don’t have access to those servers. I buried those shell companies years ago.”
Avery pulled the small silver recorder from her pocket. She held it up, the tiny red light blinking rhythmically in the cinematic, highly contrasted lighting of the hospital corridor.