Yosef corrected me, his tone infuriatingly measured: “Not give—just temporary. A loan, at an interest of fifty million. Generous terms, wouldn’t you agree? You’re hardly losing out.”

I stared at him, my gaze a scalpel, dissecting every lie on his face. Then, after a beat, a low, bitter laugh bubbled from my lips.

His expression darkened. “What the hell are you laughing at?”

It was difficult to stop, the laughter clawing its way out of me, ...