She picked up a heavy silver pen from the stand and held it out to him.

The rain beat a steady, rhythmic pattern against the tall glass panes behind me.

I pressed my back against the cold stone of the window frame, trying to disappear into the fabric.

Through a small gap in the velvet, I saw Alexander look down at the pen.

His jaw was set, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

He knew I had the key.

He just didn’t know if I could get out of the room.

“If I sign this, Crane Capital owns the logistics engine,” Alexander said. “The engine that runs the entire eastern seaboard shipping network.”

“And you remain a free man,” Victoria said. “A quiet life in upstate New York, perhaps.”

She smiled, but her eyes remained cold and calculated.

“You always did prefer the countryside,” she added.

“You planned this the night of the autumn gala,” Alexander said, stepping closer to her, drawing her attention further from my corner. “When you introduced Marcus to the board.”

“Marcus was ambitious,” she said. “You were stubborn.”