“They won’t lose a dime,” she said. “My father left everything he owned to me. I’m the only one who stands to lose anything. Half of everything I own, to be precise.”

Liam glanced nervously at Patrick, as though seeking advice. “I don’t need half,” he stammered. “I’ve got a big hospital bill hanging over my head, though, and I’d be grateful for help with it.”

His voice trailed off as he clenched and unclenched his fists, and she noticed his fingernails were badly bitten, gnawed down to the quick. They hadn’t been that way when he confronted her outside the courtroom. A tiny bit of sympathy awakened.

“I will make suitable financial arrangements,” she said primly. Her father would expect her to give Liam half of everything she’d inherited, and she would. She’d never cared about money or power. Not like—

She froze as dark thoughts cascaded in, overwhelming in their implications. Uncle Oscar had tremendous sway at the bank, in part because he’d inherited her father’s voting shares, but those shares should have gone to Liam. If Liam could prove himself to be her father’s son, he would get half of Oscar’s shares in the bank, and that ten percent stake might indeed be worth killing for.

Sweat prickled on her skin. She didn’t want to consider it, but Uncle Oscar had plenty of reasons to fear a reappearance of William Blackstone.

“Gwen?” Patrick asked. “What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t meet his eyes. Patrick was so good, and shame washed through her for even thinking Uncle Oscar might be capable of murder. But the more she thought about it, the more serious the implications became. Liam could wreak havoc on the bank if he chose.

“When my father died, his nearest male relative inherited his partnership shares in the bank,” she said. “Since William was presumed dead, my father’s ten percent went to my uncle. Oscar now has a twenty-percent stake in the bank. Add that to my grandfather’s thirty percent, and the two of them can rule the bank without opposition.” She swallowed hard, watching Patrick’s face transform as he understood.

“You’re saying that if Liam can prove his identity, your uncle will lose the votes he inherited from your father. Liam could throw a wrench into anything your uncle and grandfather have planned for the bank.”

All she could do was nod, dazed at the prospect. Liam watched with curiosity, but not quite enough. He didn’t understand the implications of what she was saying.

She met his eyes and spoke frankly. “If you controlled a ten-percent vote in Blackstone Bank, you would have a shot at scuttling the U.S. Steel merger.”

It clicked. Liam lifted his chin, and his eyes brightened. “How do I get my hands on those shares? And when is the vote?”