"I accidentally stepped into the office of the most powerful woman in the company and discovered her secret.

Marcus didn't wait for the elevator.

He was through the office door in under four minutes, which meant he'd taken the stairs — thirty floors — and he wasn't even breathing hard.

Ivan filed that away.

The man was in better shape than he looked at dinner.

He stopped when he saw Ivan.

"I didn't realize you'd be here."

"I work in the building," Ivan said.

"Temporarily."

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Consulting."

Marcus looked at Jessi.

"We need to speak privately."

"Ivan stays," Jessi said.

"Jessi—"

"He stays, Marcus.

Whatever you have to say, say it."

A muscle moved in Marcus's jaw.

He crossed to the chair across from Jessi's desk and sat down without being invited.

Ivan remained standing near the window.

"I know you went to see Carol Reeves," Marcus said.

"I don't know who that is," Jessi said.

"Don't." His voice dropped.

"Don't do that with me.

We grew up in the same house.

I know every face you make." He leaned forward.

"She's a liability, Jessi.

She's a disgruntled former employee with a grudge and a lawyer who's going to drag this into a very public, very ugly deposition process.

Whatever she told you—"

"She told me someone threatened her daughter," Jessi said.

The room went quiet.

Marcus sat back.

"I don't know anything about that."

"Then someone acting on your behalf does."

"That is a serious accusation."

"It's a serious thing to do." Jessi's voice was completely steady.

"A nine-year-old girl, Marcus."

"I told you — I had nothing to do with—"

"Then find out who did." She leaned forward.

"Because if that threat came from anyone connected to you, and I can prove it, we are no longer having a family disagreement about corporate governance.

We are in criminal territory."

Marcus stood up.

"You're trying to reframe this.

You're scared because the petition is coming and you know the board is going to—"

"Sit down."

He stopped.

"Sit down," Jessi said again.

Quieter.

He sat.

"I have fourteen transfer records," she said.

"Totaling 2.3 million dollars.

Routed through a shell company registered to Gerald Fitch." She let that land.

"I have three more months of records being compiled right now.

And I have a meeting with Patricia Howe on Thursday."

Marcus's face didn't move.

But his right hand, resting on the arm of the chair, closed slowly into a fist.

"You want to file a competency petition," Jessi said.

"File it.

I'll be in that room, standing on my own two feet, with my husband beside me and my legal team behind me and fourteen documented transfers that raise very serious questions about where company money has been going." She paused.

"Or we can end this now.

Quietly.

You withdraw the petition, you return what you've taken, and we never speak of it again."

Marcus looked at her for a long moment.

Then he looked at Ivan.

"You coached her," he said.

"This speech.

You coached her."

"She didn't need coaching," Ivan said.

Marcus stood again.

This time Jessi didn't stop him.

He walked to the door, then turned back.

"You think you've won something," he said.

"You haven't.

You've shown me your hand." His eyes moved between them.

"And you've made this personal."

"It was already personal," Jessi said.

"You made it personal when you went after her nurse.

And her daughter."

Marcus looked at Ivan one more time.

Something had shifted in his expression — not fear exactly, but the recalculation of a man who had underestimated the board and was now counting pieces.

"Enjoy the next few days," he said.

"While you still can."

He left.

The door closed behind him.

Ivan waited five seconds.

Then: "He's going to file by tomorrow morning."

"Yes." Jessi was already reaching for her phone.

"Thomas.

It's happening tonight.

I need you in the office in one hour." She paused.

"Bring everything."

She hung up and looked at Ivan.