She threw wet trash at the servant's face. The servant dropped her to the floor.

The Manhattan skyline materialized out of the gray autumn dawn like a jagged fortress of glass and steel. As the black sedan crossed the Triborough Bridge, the first rays of sunlight struck the top of the Freedom Tower, turning its facade into a blade of burning gold. Inside the car, Victoria sat erect, her white silk blouse replaced by a fresh, immaculate white blazer over a black skirt. Her dark hair was once again coiled into its severe, unyielding bun.

On her left hand, the heavy silver band and its crimson gemstone anchored her composure.

"The wire services picked up the archive at 7:45," Richard said, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night as he scrolled through news feeds on his tablet. "Financial Times lead story. Bloomberg breaking alert. The Department of Justice has already announced a preliminary inquiry into the regional Federal Reserve board."

"And Sterling?" Victoria asked, staring out the window at the skyline.

"He’s scheduled to testify before the Senate Banking Committee at noon today," Richard replied, looking up with a grim smile. "His lawyers tried to file an emergency health injunction, but the Senate refused to excuse him. He has to show up."

"Then our timing is immaculate," Victoria said. "Drop me off at the Federal Courthouse on Foley Square. You take the control room at Vance Capital. If Sterling’s legal team tries any last-minute asset-stripping maneuvers through shell accounts, I want them frozen before the gavel drops."

The car pulled up to the imposing granite steps of the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York. A swarm of reporters, camera crews, and curious onlookers had already gathered at the base of the stairs, their lenses flashing like a field of lightning bugs against the gray stone.

Victoria adjusted her black gloves, took a slow, measured breath, and pushed the car door open.

As her heel touched the pavement, the pack of journalists surged forward like a breaking wave. Shouted questions ricocheted off the marble columns.

"Ms. Vance! Is it true you hold the evidence that brought down Jonathan Sterling?"