Bernard POV

I could barely control my rage as I drove through downtown Sacramento, gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles were white. My private investigator's phone call kept replaying in my head - Vanya was at some fancy restaurant with another man, acting like she had money to burn. The betrayal cut through me like a knife.

"Drive faster, Bernard," Tracy said from the passenger seat, her voice sharp with anger. "I want to catch that lying bitch in the act."

"The speed limit ...