“I know I can,” Daniel said.

He stopped two feet from the sculpture, his chest rising and falling beneath his tailored gray suit.

“You have always underestimated the reach of the firm, Emily,” he said.

“It isn’t the firm I underestimate,” I said. “It is you.”

He let out a short, dry laugh.

“You think this is about my ego,” he said.

“Isn’t it?” I asked. “You took my father’s shares, you took my trust fund, and now you want my name.”

“Your father’s shares were collapsing,” Daniel said, his voice cold. “I saved them.”

“By transferring them to a shell company in the Cayman Islands?” I asked.

I shifted my weight, leaning closer to the hidden microphone in the cedar wood.

Daniel stepped closer to me, his face tight with anger.

“It was a standard restructuring,” he said. “Your father knew the risks.”

“My father was in a coma when those papers were signed, Daniel,” I said.

The wind rattled the loose sash of the window behind us.

A drop of rain hit the glass with a sharp tap.