The executive boardroom on the sixty-fourth floor of 60 Wall Street was bathed in the harsh, fluorescent glow of corporate high noon. Clara sat at the long table of polished Macassar ebony, flanked by twenty-four members of Vance Global Capital’s executive committee. Across from her sat Lord Alistair Croft, the seventy-two-year-old chairman of the governance committee, whose aristocratic silver eyebrows had remained drawn together in sharp skepticism since nine o'clock…
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