When the doors opened, the executive lobby was dark, save for the emergency lights near the floor.

A single security guard stood near the glass doors of the boardroom.

Inside the boardroom, Julian Leprince sat at the long mahogany table.

He looked smaller than usual, his expensive grey suit rumpled, his tie loosened at his collar.

Two of Andrew’s personal security detail stood behind his chair.

Julian looked up as we entered, his eyes rimmed with red.

“Andrew, listen to me,” Julian said, his voice cracking. “Victoria set the whole thing up.”

“Shut up, Julian,” Andrew said, his voice completely flat.

Andrew walked to the end of the table and plugged the USB drive into the media hub.

The large wall-mounted monitor flickered, then displayed a directory of encrypted files.

Andrew’s fingers flew across the keyboard built into the table.

Koko and I stood near the door, watching the screen.

Lines of financial data began to scroll down the screen, glowing blue in the dark room.

“She told me we were just licensing the patent to a shell company,” Julian pleaded, his hands shaking on the wood table. “She said it was a tax write-off.”