“Sending the documents to my email was enough. I didn’t ask you to send me the papers,” Santiago’s voice was low as he whispered through the phone, the papers in his hands ruffling at his grip.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get my accountant to wire you some money,” he grunted, his hand running through his jet black hair.

He slid his phone into his pockets while he held the papers, his fingers drumming noisily on them. He stared at them as though he had been served a quit notice from his ...