I was the chief financial officer of Northstar Medical — the company Adrian liked to call ours at dinner parties, though my grandfather’s trust owned sixty-two percent of it, in my name and no one else’s.

Adrian had been handed a ceremonial executive title as a wedding gift, an office and a business card and the flattering proximity to real power.

And somewhere in eight years, he had made the oldest mistake there is.

He had mistaken standing near the throne for sitting on it.

That confusion, I have come to think, was the master key to everything Adrian did, and it is a more common error than people realize, because our whole world is arranged to encourage it.

He had an office on the executive floor.