“Because she’s a coward,” he spat, his face flushing with sudden anger. “She thought she could use my records as leverage to get a plea deal, but she didn’t realize her own signatures are on the wire transfers.”

“So you are both going down.”

“Not if we settle this now,” he pleaded, his voice softening again. “A private settlement, Emily. We can file the papers tonight.”

He took a step toward his desk, his leather shoes squeaking on the polished hardwood.

“I will give you forty percent of the real estate portfolio,” he said. “The Wabash building, the gallery space in River North, and the house in Lake Forest.”

“I don’t want the Lake Forest house,” I said. “Too many ghosts.”

“Then I will buy you out of it,” he said. “Cash. Five million dollars, tax-free, wired to a private account by noon tomorrow.”

“And what do you want in exchange?”

“Your silence,” he said. “An affidavit stating that you authorized the signatures on the offshore accounts.”

I looked at him, seeing the desperate calculation in his eyes.