“It’s only the first step,” I said, taking a sip. “Adrian will receive the formal notice within the hour.”

“He will,” Julian said, checking his own phone. “And his lenders will receive it shortly after.”

Margaret joined us, her eyes bright with satisfaction.

“This will ruin his reputation in Chicago permanently,” Margaret said. “He won’t be able to bid on a sidewalk project here, let alone the waterfront.”

We walked out of the library and down the grand staircase of the club.

The lobby was warm and quiet, the sounds of the city muffled by the thick stone walls.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out and saw an incoming call from a Boston area code.

It was Adrian.

I showed the screen to Julian, then pressed the button to decline the call.

A moment later, a voicemail notification appeared.

I played it on speaker, holding the phone close to my ear so Julian and Margaret could hear.

“Claire,” Adrian’s voice was strained, the usual arrogant tone replaced by something close to panic. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to stop. We have a board meeting tomorrow morning, and if this suspension goes public, it will trigger our loan covenants.”