The knife shook against my neck.

“She is lying,” Richard yelled to the empty corners.

“I have the offshore routing numbers!”

“You have the ones Victor gave you,” I said.

“The ones he tracks.”

“The moment you use them, his clean-up crew will find you.”

“And they will find Vance, too.”

I felt the pressure of the knife ease just a fraction of a millimeter.

My hand slid slowly toward my pocket.

The fabric of my coat was wet from the rain outside.

My fingers brushed the cold screen of my phone.

“You think you can play us against each other?” Victor asked from above.

“It is a valiant effort, child.”

“But my men do not care about dock contracts.”

“They care about my orders.”

“And my orders are to clear the board.”

Roman took a slow step to the left, shifting his angle.

His dark eyes met mine for a fraction of a second.

There was a cold, calculated warning in his gaze.

He wanted me to drop.

“If you shoot,” Roman said to Victor, “you lose the ledger permanently.”

“The real one.”