“What did you do, Inés?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“Tell him, Matthew,” I said.

A pause stretched over the line.

“The safe,” Matthew said. “The one in the study behind the Sorolla painting.”

“No,” Alvaro said.

“It is empty, sir,” Matthew said.

“The ledger?” Alvaro asked. “The Horizonte transactions?”

“The physical folders and the backup drives are gone,” Matthew said.

“You let her take them,” Alvaro said.

“I didn’t know,” Matthew said. “She had the key. She had the combination.”

“You are his assistant, Matthew,” I said. “Tell him the rest.”

“She has the tax records from the Barcelona shell companies,” Matthew said. “The ones signed by Lucía.”

The mention of Lucía’s name made the line go dead silent.

Alvaro did not speak for five seconds.

“You have nothing,” Alvaro finally said, his voice cold. “Those documents are protected by proprietary privilege. You cannot use them in a court.”

“I do not need to use them in a court,” I said.

“I will freeze every euro you touched before the banks close their ledgers tonight,” he said.

“You can try,” I said.