Serena looked radiant in a cream-colored wool coat, her chin tilted up in triumph.

The article quoted Serena as the “architect of the new transatlantic alliance.”

My office phone rang.

I picked it up. “Claire Bennett.”

“Did you see the news?” Sarah Jenkins’ voice was tight.

“I’m looking at the photo right now,” I said.

“It’s a lie, Claire,” Sarah said. “The bank in London just issued a quiet notice to the federal regulators. They have no record of the transfer.”

“Why haven’t they made it public?” I asked.

“Because Serena’s lawyers filed an injunction claiming a technical error in the routing codes,” Sarah said. “It bought them forty-eight hours.”

“What is she doing with forty-eight hours?”

“She’s trying to get Adrian to sign over his personal real estate holdings to Vanguard as a guarantee for the ‘pending’ funds,” Sarah said.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen.

Serena wasn’t just trying to save the company.

She was preparing to strip Adrian of everything he owned.

“Does Adrian know about the injunction?” I asked.