“The circumstances are that you have been digging into my accounts,” he said.

He turned back to face me, his hands stuffed into his trouser pockets.

“You have been talking to Arthur.”

“Arthur is a friend of the family,” I said.

“Arthur is a business partner who cares about the firm’s bottom line,” Ethan snapped.

He stepped closer to the desk again.

“He does not care about you, Clara.”

“He will side with me if he knows the truth,” I said.

Ethan leaned down, his face inches from mine.

“The truth is whatever I say it is.”

He pointed a finger at the paper.

“You will sign that document.”

“It waives your right to the joint investment accounts and the house.”

“You will take a one-time payment of two hundred thousand dollars.”

I looked at him, keeping my expression entirely blank.

“The house alone is worth two million, Ethan.”

“And the firm is worth much more.”

“You won’t get a dime of the firm,” he said.

His voice was quiet, but it carried a sharp edge.

“Because if you try to take this to court, I will ruin you.”