I have an atom bomb tucked up my sleeve. If I go down, everybody does.

Since selling my own business I have worked for a friend looking after his more valuable clients. When his wife died he left and a married couple have purchased his company from him, but they run it like their pet science project.

This has caused staff turnover to increase rapidly and fray relationships with some of our more significant clients. I buzz around Europe patching holes and it’s wearing thin.

The current owner keeps flirting with the idea of removing me, or making my role more difficult for sport.

What I know, and what he doesn’t know is his wife who runs the company finances is infatuated with a very famous sportsman. A man is pretending to be this sportsman and sends her gifts and romantic messages. She in turn sends the imposter large amounts of money, sometimes off our books. Considering the sportsman this man is impersonating is a multimillionaire it beggars belief that she believes a man asking her for money could be him. But I’ve listened to her stories and pretended to be impressed.

If her husband ever does anything to damage the business or threaten me, I’ll let slip that his wife is having an affair with a fraudster.

In truth I could live reasonably comfortably off my rental income. But I enjoy work. So I nod and smile at the imbeciles currently running the company, knowing that should they ever turn on me I will huff and puff and blow their house down.