The room was filled with a suffocating silence as Margaret Winters’ sharp gaze swept over her husband. She squared her shoulders, her expression unreadable.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply,” she said coolly, her tone sharp and unwavering.

“But I’m looking at my husband, Thomas Winters, right now. There’s nothing off about him.”

Ryan’s breath hitched. His gaze flickered between his mother and Steve, waiting for some kind of reaction—a hesitation, a flicker of ...