Daniel burst into the room, his tie askew and his face flushed a deep, angry red.

He was breathing heavily, his chest heaved, and his eyes darted from me to his father.

“They are downstairs,” Daniel gasped, pointing a thumb back toward the hallway. “They have boxes, Dad. They are taking the servers from the basement.”

Richard did not look at his son; his eyes remained fixed on me.

“She refused the three million,” Richard said quietly.

Daniel stopped, his jaw dropping slightly as he looked at me. “Are you insane, Emily? That money would set you up for life.”

“I am already set up for life, Daniel,” I said. “My father’s trust was more than enough before you stole it.”

“I didn’t steal it,” Daniel said, stepping closer to the desk. “It was a business loan. We had an agreement.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a leather-bound planner.

“The repayment contract,” Daniel said, his voice rising in panic. “The original copy is right here in the desk safe. We can tear it up. We can rewrite the terms.”