“What is this circus?” Vance demanded, rounding on my father. “Handle your family, Robert, or the deal is off.”

I didn’t look at my father. I walked directly at Vance, and the crowd parted — people who’d ignored me ten minutes ago now pressing against the walls to get out of my way.

“The deal is already off, Mr. Vance,” I said, stopping three feet from him.

He sneered, looking me up and down. “And who are you supposed to be? Some glorified boy scout in a cheap suit? Step aside before my associate moves you.”

The bodyguard took a threatening step. I didn’t flinch. I reached into my jacket, pulled out the encrypted datapad, and tapped the screen once.

“I’m the man who’s spent the last six months tracking your money-laundering operations through the Cayman Islands,” I said, low enough for only him and my family to hear, but glacial.