I took out my phone and drafted a message to Victoria.

*I have the files. We need to go tonight.*

A minute later, my phone buzzed.

*Meet me at the side entrance of the Plaza in twenty minutes,* she wrote.

*I have a car. We have a window.*

The cab pulled up to the curb near the hotel.

The rain was coming down harder now, washing over the pavement.

I ran through the side entrance, shaking the water from my coat.

Victoria was standing near the luggage desk.

She had changed into a dark sweater and trousers.

She looked nervous, her eyes darting toward the main lobby.

“Did you see the files?” she asked, stepping close to me.

“Yes,” I said. “Julian is draining the trust for your father’s campaign.”

“It’s over fifty million already,” I added.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Then we don’t have much time,” she said.

“Julian is hosting a charity gala at the corporate headquarters tonight.”

“My father will be there too.”

“It will last at least four hours,” she said.

“That is our distraction,” I said.