“They are parking in the loading zone.”

Arthur sat back down.

He rubbed his temples.

“You have ten minutes to get out of this building, Ethan,” Arthur said.

“Before they come up those stairs.”

“If they arrest you here, the press will have the photos by morning.”

“I won’t let you drag my father’s name through the mud.”

Ethan turned around slowly.

The confident executive who had left our house this morning was gone.

In his place stood a man who looked ten years older, his expensive suit suddenly looking too large for him.

He looked at me again.

“You knew,” he said.

It was not a question.

“You knew about the secondary accounts.”

“I knew you were hiding things, Ethan,” I said.

“I did not know the extent of your stupidity.”

That was a lie, of course.

I had spent the last three weeks copying every digital ledger I could find.

I had sent them to the compliance auditor myself, using an untraceable encrypted email.

But he did not need to know that yet.

“This is ruin,” Ethan said.

“They will take the house.”