The rain was still beating hard against the floor-to-ceiling windows, washing over the city lights below.

I walked toward the double doors of the main boardroom.

Through the glass panes, I could see the chaos.

Marcus was on his phone, pacing furiously in front of the giant screen that still displayed his crimes.

Victoria stood near the window, her phone to her ear, her face pale and drawn.

She looked out at the rain, her fingers tapping against her thigh.

I pushed the heavy glass doors open and stepped inside.

The room fell completely silent.

Every head turned to look at me.

Marcus stopped pacing, his eyes wide with a mixture of rage and terror.

“You,” he whispered.

I stood by the threshold, my wet trench coat dripping onto the expensive Persian rug.

“The federal agents are in the lobby, Marcus,” I said.

Victoria turned slowly from the window, her cold blue eyes locking onto mine.

“You made a mistake, Clara,” she said, her voice dripping with ice.

Before I could answer, the double doors at the far end of the boardroom burst open.