I walked down the long hallway toward Marcus’s private office.

The heavy oak door was slightly ajar, a sliver of warm light spilling onto the floor.

I pushed the door open.

Sophia was standing near the mahogany desk.

Her coat was unbuttoned, and her hair was damp from the snow.

Two men in heavy wool coats stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, their hands crossed in front of them.

Vance sat in Marcus’s leather desk chair.

He was a tall man with graying hair and a sharp, scarred jawline.

Luca was leaning against the bookshelf in the corner, his eyes fixed on the floor.

He looked tired, his leather jacket damp and his shoulders slumped.

“Elena,” Sophia said, her voice shaking slightly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“She had to come,” Vance said.

He did not look up from a laptop open on the desk.

“We needed the person who actually understands the ledger,” Vance added.

I walked into the room and let the door click shut behind me.

“I brought what you wanted,” I said, looking directly at Vance.

Sophia took a step toward me, her eyes wide with panic.