“Yes, Mr. Graves?” the voice crackled back through the speaker.

“Lock down the building,” Nathaniel said. “No one leaves. Especially not Mr. Dunleavy.”

“Understood, sir. Initiating protocol.”

Nathaniel looked at me, a cold, sharp light in his gray eyes.

“We are going to find out exactly where that money went,” he said.

He pressed another button, connecting back to his secretary in the lobby.

“Send Mr. Dunleavy up to the penthouse,” he said into the receiver.

“Tell him we are having an emergency board meeting regarding the Brindlewood assets.”

“Tell him his presence is required immediately to sign the papers.”

He hung up the phone and looked at the heavy double doors of his office.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

The rain outside tapped against the glass, a soft, steady rhythm that offered no comfort.

Nathaniel walked over to a small, hidden door near the fireplace.

“Go in there,” he said, gesturing to the adjoining room. “Both of you.”

“It is my private study. It has a one-way mirror looking into this office.”

“I want you to hear everything he says, Claire.”