He slid the papers across the desk toward me.

The ink was still wet, shining under the desk lamp.

“There,” Elias said. “It is yours.”

I picked up the document, careful not to smudge his name.

I placed it inside my leather briefcase and slid the brass latch shut.

The click of the lock sounded incredibly loud in the quiet room.

Elias leaned back in his leather chair.

He looked smaller than he had an hour ago.

“What will you do now?” he asked.

“I am going to build what my father wanted to build,” I said.

“Under a new name?” he asked.

“Under my family name,” I said. “The one you tried to erase.”

He rubbed his temples with his fingers.

“Daniel will come after you,” he warned. “He has files on everyone. He has contracts you don’t know about.”

I smiled slightly.

“I know about his offshore accounts, Elias,” I said.

Elias froze.

“What?” he whispered.

“I found the transaction logs three months ago,” I said. “While you were busy restructuring the Boston office.”

He stared at me, his mouth slightly open.