“The national police,” she whispered.

“They have a warrant for the offshore accounts.”

The footsteps on our own stairs grew louder, striking the marble treads with rhythmic precision.

I reached down and tapped the blue folder.

“Sign it, Alvaro,” I said.

He looked up at me, his face drained of all color.

“If I sign this, I have nothing left,” he said.

“You already have nothing left,” I said.

The door to the study opened.

It was not the police.

Matthew stood in the doorway, his coat wet from the Madrid rain.

He held a leather briefcase in one hand and his phone in the other.

His face was pale, his eyes fixed on Alvaro.

“They are downstairs, sir,” Matthew said.

“Who?” Alvaro asked, his hand dropping from the phone.

“The economic crimes division,” Matthew said.

“And the board of Horizonte Capital has just released a statement.”

Matthew looked at me, then back at his boss.

“They have removed you from the chairmanship, effective immediately.”

“They cannot do that,” Alvaro whispered.

“I built that firm.”

“They did it ten minutes ago,” Matthew said.