He looked at my face, then down at the empty ledger binding in my hand, and finally at the thin wisp of smoke rising from the wastebasket.

He walked into the room, his boots crunching on the loose plaster near the doorway.

“Lena,” Roman said.

His voice was very quiet, very calm.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

He stepped closer, ignoring Arthur entirely.

He reached out and gently took the empty ledger from my hand.

He tossed it onto the desk without looking at it.

“What did you do?” Roman asked, looking down into the ashes in the wastebasket.

“I secured the assets,” I said.

My father took a step back, his eyes darting toward the open door, but Roman’s men blocked the exit.

“She burned them, Roman,” Arthur said, his voice high and frantic. “She burned the routing numbers. They’re gone.”

Roman did not look at Arthur.

He kept his eyes on me.

“Is that true?” Roman asked.

“The paper is gone,” I said.

Roman’s face did not change.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.