We walked down the long hallway toward the corner office.

Through the glass double doors, I could see Gavin.

He was sitting behind his mahogany desk, the screen of his laptop casting a blue glow over his face.

Sloane Pierce was standing near the window, staring out at the city lights.

She was wearing a tailored gray suit, but her shoulders were tense.

Her fingers were nervously twisting a heavy gold ring on her right hand.

I pushed the door open.

The click of the latch made Gavin look up.

He didn’t look surprised; he simply closed his laptop halfway and leaned back in his chair.

“You really don’t know when to quit, do you, Cassandra?” he said.

“The receiver is on her way, Gavin,” Sarah said, stepping forward.

“I suggest you close that laptop and step away from the desk.”

Gavin let out a dry laugh.

“The receiver has no jurisdiction over what I’ve already done,” he said.

“The wire transfers to the Cayman accounts are already processing.”

“Under the authority of the majority shareholder.”

He pointed a finger at the manila folder sitting on the edge of his desk.