Daniel calls you for the first time in months.
His voice is warm, familiar, almost convincing.
“Ethan,” he says, “I’m sorry. This got out of hand.”
You grip your phone so tightly your hand aches. “Out of hand?” you repeat. “You helped them frame me.”
Daniel sighs like you’re the unreasonable one.
“You were becoming a liability,” he says. “The company needed stability.”
You feel something cold settle in your chest. “Stability,” you whisper, “or control?”
Daniel pauses, then says softly, “Meet me. Let’s talk like men.”
Marisol hears the call and shakes her head immediately.
“Trap,” she says.
But you look at Luis, and you see something in his eyes: not fear, but calculation.
“Sometimes,” Luis says quietly, “you let the thief carry the stolen goods into the light.”
You meet Daniel in a private lounge overlooking the Hudson, a place where drinks cost more than Luis’s weekly groceries.
You arrive with Marisol in the next booth, hidden in plain sight, and two federal agents positioned like shadows.
Daniel doesn’t see them because men like Daniel assume the world belongs to them.
He greets you with a hug that feels like a costume.
“I tried to stop Miranda,” Daniel says, voice low. “You know how she is.”
You sit, steady, and let him speak.
He offers a deal: you resign publicly, he helps “clear” your name quietly, you get a payout and disappear.
