Chapter 27 · Proxy Authority

"Don't." Torin's palm came down flat over the comm grille before my second word cleared my teeth.

Static ate half of Renata's sentence. "—Ms. Calder, I need verbal confirmation before puck drop or the transfer executes automatically, those are the terms your office signed—"

"My office didn't sign anything." I shoved at his wrist. Cold pipe at my back, condensation soaking through my jacket, and his forearm didn't move an inch. "That's my hand you're covering."

"That's forty pensions you're about to smile away on a recorded line." His voice stayed level. Too level. The kind of level that means a man's already three moves past you. "You say the word into that mic, it's timestamped. It's an exhibit. You want a lawyer reading your voice back to a judge in six months, be my guest."

"And if I don't say it, the reserve eats the heating money tonight."

"I know what happens if you don't say it."

"Then move your hand."

He didn't.