He was a king without a castle, walking the wet streets of Madrid in a bespoke suit.

Lucía sat back down, her knees seemingly unable to support her weight.

She picked up her glass of water, but her hand shook so much she had to set it down.

The water spilled over the side, pooling on the black marble.

“What happens to the gifts?” she asked softly.

“Which ones?” I asked.

“The jewelry,” she said. “The watches. The townhouse in Marbella.”

“The state will seize them,” I said. “They will classify them as assets purchased with stolen funds.”

She looked down at her wrist.

She was wearing a diamond-encrusted watch that Alvaro had given her for her birthday.

She slowly slid her sleeve down to cover it.

“There must be a way to keep them,” she said. “I did nothing wrong.”

“If you want to stay out of a cell, you need to think about survival, not gold,” I said.

The television in the corner of the room was muted, but the news ticker at the bottom of the screen changed.