“We had an agreement,” Daniel said, his voice rising. “The board meeting isn’t until Tuesday.”

“The board met three hours ago in a private dining room at the Drake,” Clara said.

She unzipped her portfolio and pulled out a stack of documents bound in blue paper.

“We voted to remove you as chairman and chief executive, effective immediately,” she said.

The silence in the room grew heavy, punctured only by the steady drumming of the rain against the glass.

Daniel looked as if he had been struck.

His jaw tightened, and he looked down at the mahogany desk that had served as his throne for a decade.

“You can’t do that,” Daniel whispered. “I built this company.”

“You built it on debt and falsified valuations,” Clara said calmly.

She walked past him and placed the documents on the desk.

“And you built it by stealing from my late husband’s estate,” she added.

I watched them, my hand still holding the strap of my bag.

The air in the penthouse felt cold, stripped of the artificial warmth Daniel always insisted on maintaining.