She placed them on the table.

“These are the final terms,” Lydia said.

Julian stared at the documents as if they were a death warrant.

“You are taking everything,” Julian said.

His voice was barely a whisper.

“I am taking what belongs to Harrison and me,” I said.

“The brownstone, the Connecticut house, and the remaining liquid assets.”

“You left me with nothing,” he said, looking up at me.

His eyes tried to find the old Elena, the one who would apologize and yield.

She was not there.

“You have your freedom, Julian,” I said.

“If you do not sign, Lydia delivers the offshore files to the federal prosecutor at nine tomorrow morning.”

Martin Bell sighed and rubbed his temples.

“She is right, Julian,” Martin said. “We have discussed this.”

“If this goes to trial, you will lose the civil suit and face immediate indictment.”

“Your career in finance is over either way,” Martin added coldly.

“The board has already drafted the press release for your resignation.”

Julian’s hands began to tremble.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy silver pen.