The question felt like a physical blow.

“No,” I said softly. “He is busy with some meetings.”

“Okay,” she said. “Don’t work too hard, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mia,” I said, and my throat tightened as I hung up.

I could not let him ruin her.

The cab pulled up in front of the imposing granite facade of the Vanguard Private Bank building.

It was a fortress of wealth, designed to make ordinary people feel small.

I paid the driver and walked up the wide stone steps, pushing through the heavy bronze doors.

The lobby was quiet, smelling of expensive floor wax and polished brass.

A security guard in a dark suit stood near the elevators.

“I am here to see Thomas Sterling,” I said, my voice firm.

“Do you have an appointment, ma’am?” he asked.

“No, but he will see me,” I said. “Tell him Claire Hayes is here.”

The guard spoke into a small earpiece, his eyes studying my face.

After a moment, he nodded. “Thirty-second floor, ma’am. Mr. Sterling’s assistant will meet you.”