Alexander slammed the leather folder down onto the dark wood of the desk.

The heavy thud echoed in the quiet room.

Victoria’s gaze snapped away from the curtain and back to him.

“You want my signature,” Alexander said, his voice low and steady. “Look at me, Victoria, not the shadows.”

She slowly lowered her phone, though her fingers remained wrapped tightly around the brass casing.

“You are deflecting,” she said.

“I am negotiating,” Alexander replied.

Behind the heavy velvet curtain, my chest rose and fell in shallow, silent breaths.

My hand trembled as I slid the cloning device back into my small evening clutch.

The metal casing of the reader was still warm from the data transfer.

I closed the zipper slowly, millimeter by millimeter, to prevent the metal teeth from clicking.

“There is no negotiation left,” Victoria said, her heels clicking on the hardwood as she stepped closer to the desk. “You either sign the patent transfer, or Marcus hands the federal prosecutors the offshore ledger.”

“The ledger Marcus forged,” Alexander said.

“The ledger that has your digital signature on every page,” she corrected.