“Never,” he said, throwing the paper back onto the desk. “I will never sign that.”

“Then the magistrate will receive the second set of files tomorrow,” I said.

“There are no other files,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

“There are,” I said. “The ones from the Geneva office. The ones Matthew kept in his personal safe.”

Alvaro looked at the window, his reflection pale against the dark glass.

He looked like a man who had suddenly run out of air.

“You planned this,” he whispered. “From the very beginning.”

“No,” I said. “Not from the beginning. Only since I realized what you were.”

“I loved you, Ines,” he said, turning back to me.

“You loved the image of us,” I said. “You loved having a lawyer for a wife who could clean up your messes.”

He reached for the desk, leaning his weight against the heavy wood.

“If I sign this,” he said, “what do I get?”

“You get to stay out of Soto del Real,” I said. “For now.”

He let out a long, shuddering breath.

“And the money?” he asked. “The Horizonte shares?”