"It's not personal," I say, "but you're a liability."
He stares at the paper, then at me.
"You want me to walk away."
"I want you to disappear."
He sets the sheet down.
His fingers tremble now, and he makes no effort to hide it.
"And if I don't?"
I stand.
Fiachra straightens at the door.
I say, "Then I'll make you."
Boyle looks up, sees the endgame, and he holds my gaze for a full five seconds.
Then he nods and gathers the papers into a neat stack.
He says, "She's not what you think."
It takes a second to parse.
"Who?"
"The girl. Keira."
He stumbles on the name, then forces it out.
"She's not weak. She's not going to let you rule alone."
I smile, but only with my mouth.
"I know."
He laughs, bitter.
"Then you know she'll be the end of you."
I reach for the door, nod to Fiachra, and step into the corridor.
The steel shutters cast striped shadows across the tile, and for a moment I see the whole world in black and white, no grey.
I turn to Fiachra.
"Freeze every Donnelly account. Cross-reference the port licenses against our smuggling routes. Audit anyone still drawing payment from a Donnelly shell."
He says, "Including Boyle?"
I shake my head.
"Especially Boyle."
We walk out.
