Julian leaned closer, lowering his voice.

“How much would it take for you to disappear?” he asked.

“Two million dollars,” I said, looking up to meet his gaze. “In an offshore account.”

Julian chuckled, a dry, unpleasant sound.

“That’s a steep price for an intern.”

“It’s a small price to protect your family’s reputation,” I countered. “And to make sure I don’t start talking to the press about the real source of the toxic formula.”

His smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating look.

“The gala is tomorrow night at the Grand Plaza Hotel,” Julian said. “Bring a signed confession stating you altered the formula. I’ll have the transfer details ready.”

“In writing?” I asked.

“In person,” Julian said. “We’ll finalize the transaction in the private library on the second floor during the main toast.”

He turned and walked out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, I let out a long breath.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

It was a text from Andrew: *Are you okay?*

*He took the bait,* I replied. *Tomorrow night. The private library.*