They would not, it turned out, even manage to stand together for the length of a single evening once the betrayal stopped paying.

“You’re right,” I said.

“The assault was Lucan’s choice alone.” I let a beat pass.

“Your choices involved nineteen invoices from a consulting company registered to your brother.”

Her face emptied out.

Six weeks earlier, going through Bellweather’s confidential books as part of the acquisition review, I had noticed a pattern of recurring “market access” fees, each one sized just under the amount that would have required board approval.