I looked up at Martin, shaking. “Why is my mother with them?”
He hesitated.

Then he said, “Because she’s the one who told them about the inheritance in the first place.”

For a few seconds, all I could hear was the roar of the tires and my own breathing.

“No,” I whispered. “My mother didn’t even know the amount.”

Martin handed me another page from the folder. A printed email chain. Her name at the top. Dates from two weeks before my wedding.

He doesn’t trust easily, but once they’re married, it’ll be easier to isolate her. The grandfather’s estate should clear in full by the end of the month.

My hands turned ice-cold. “She sold me out.”

Martin’s expression tightened. “Your grandfather suspected she might. That’s one reason he structured everything the way he did.”

I looked at him. “What do you mean?”

He drew a breath. “Your grandfather didn’t just leave you money. He left conditions—private instructions sealed with the trust. If anyone tried to gain access through fraud, coercion, or incapacity proceedings, the trustee was authorized to freeze distributions, trigger a criminal referral packet, and release a recorded statement.”

I stared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”