They were starting already.

The article claimed I was under investigation by the board for financial irregularities.

It mentioned a “private employee” receiving unauthorized benefits.

They were setting the stage to paint Claire as an opportunist.

I looked at Claire, who was watching me with fear in her eyes.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I lied, putting the phone away.

“Just work.”

“Daniel,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Please tell me.”

I reached out and took her hand.

“We are going to handle this,” I said.

“I promise you.”

Suddenly, the heavy door to the room pushed open.

A man in a sharp gray suit stepped inside, holding a leather briefcase.

It was not Arthur.

It was a younger attorney from the firm, one of Marcus’s personal assistants.

He looked at me, then at Claire.

“Mr. Whitmore,” the man said.

“I have some papers that require Ms. Bennett’s immediate attention.”

The man closed the door behind him with a soft, deliberate click.

He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and looked at me with a neutral expression.

“My name is Julian Vance,” he said.