“That is impossible,” he said. “The accounts are structured through three layers of shell companies in Nassau.”

“Lucia had a key to your safe in Barcelona,” I said.

Alvaro froze.

The color drained from his face, leaving his skin the shade of old parchment.

“She found the physical ledger,” I continued. “And the digital tokens.”

“No,” he breathed. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“She did,” I said. “She gave everything to the press an hour ago.”

He lunged toward the desk, his fingers grabbing the edge of the mahogany wood.

His knuckles turned white.

“She did not have the key,” he muttered, looking down at the polished wood as if the answers were written there. “I kept it on me.”

“You left it in your jacket at her apartment last month,” I said.

He raised his head, his eyes narrowing as he stared at me.

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“Because I told her where to look,” I said.

The wind rattled the glass pane behind him, a sharp, metallic vibration.

Alvaro stood perfectly still.