The siren was closer now, turning off the main road and onto the gravel driveway of the estate.

“You,” he said.

“Me,” I said.

“You ruined me,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly hiss.

“You ruined yourself when you decided to steal from your own investors,” I said.

“I built Horizonte Capital,” he shouted, his face suddenly turning a dark, angry red. “I made us rich.”

“You made yourself vulnerable,” I said.

I reached into my leather bag on the chair beside me.

I pulled out a thick blue folder and laid it flat on the desk.

“What is that?” he asked, his eyes darting to the paper.

“Your exit,” I said.

He let out a short, harsh laugh that sounded like dry leaves scraping across stone.

“You think I am going to sign anything you give me now?” he asked.

“I know you will,” I said.

He stepped closer, his breath smelling of the red wine he had poured earlier.

“You did all of this for the money,” he said. “The offshore accounts. You wanted the Horizonte shares.”