He walked quickly, his leather shoes scuffing the polished floor.

Vance kept pace with him, holding a thick black leather portfolio.

The two federal agents watched them approach, their faces remaining entirely neutral.

“We need to talk,” Graham said, stopping a few feet from me.

He smelled of stale coffee and expensive cologne.

“There is nothing left to say, Graham,” I said.

Vance stepped forward, opening the portfolio.

“Mrs. Campbell, please look at this before you make a mistake,” Vance said.

He pulled out a document printed on heavy, cream-colored paper.

“This is a formal settlement offer,” Vance said.

“It has already been signed by Graham and authorized by the firm’s executive committee.”

I looked down at the paper.

“Read the terms,” Graham urged, his voice tight.

“You get the Highland Park house, completely free of any debt.”

“You get the offshore accounts in Grand Cayman.”

“I will sign over seventy percent of my liquid assets to you, uncontested.”

I looked at the document, then back up at my husband.

“And what do you want in exchange?” I asked.

“You walk away,” Graham said.