He reached out and took my hand. His palm was warm, but his fingers were trembling.

“Emily, I won’t let them take her,” Nathan whispered.

“We can’t let him have the shares, Nathan,” I said, my voice barely audible. “If he gets the voting control, he will ruin you.”

“I don’t care about the company,” Nathan said, his face pale. “I care about Lily.”

“How touching,” Richard sneered, leaning his hip against the edge of the mahogany table.

“But sentimentality does not pay the lawyers you will need to fight the state.”

Hayes unclipped the brass latches of his briefcase.

The sharp metallic snaps sounded like gunshots in the quiet room.

“Richard, I suggest you look at this before you make any calls,” Hayes said.

He pulled out a manila folder, the edges slightly worn, and laid it flat on the table.

“I don’t have time for your legal opinions, Hayes,” Richard said.

“This isn’t an opinion,” Hayes said, sliding the folder toward Nathan.

“This is the transaction history for the offshore accounts held under the Whitmore holding company in the Caymans.”