"My old firm did quiet consulting work," Julian said, staring at a point somewhere on the table rather than at either of them. "Due diligence, mostly. Legitimate, on paper. About three years in, a client came through who wasn't like the others — careful, generous, patient in a way that should have worried me more than it did at the time."
"A name," Alexander said. "Give us a name."
Julian's throat worked. "Dominic Cross."
Elena felt the name land like something physical, though it meant nothing to her yet beyond the shape of a stranger. Beside her, Alexander had gone very still — not the stillness of surprise, she realized, but the stillness of a man recognizing a shape he'd half expected and dreaded confirming.
"You know him," she said, looking between them.
"I know of him," Alexande
