Chapter 19
Adrien
T he mahogany door of my office flies open with a bang. Diane storms in, her usually impeccable bob slightly askew, eyes blazing.
“Have you completely lost your mind, Adrien?”
I recline in my chair. “Good morning to you too, Diane.”
She leans in, her voice dropping to a furious whisper. “Relocating headquarters to Empire Heights? Are you out of your mind?”
She’s found out. I should’ve known it wouldn’t take long.
“I assure you, my mind is perfectly sound.”
Diane scoffs. “Sound? It’ll cost millions in taxes alone, not to mention the logistical nightmare of relocating and restructuring the company’s operations. This isn’t like you, Adrien. What’s going on?”
“It’s a strategic move. Empire Heights has a booming tech industry and better tax incentives in the long run. We’ll recoup the initial costs within a year.”
“This is about her, isn’t it? Tiffany Carter.”
“Tiffany is part of it.”
It’s the closest I’ve come to confessing my feelings out loud to someone other than Tiffany.
“I’m happy for you. But this weakness...” She shakes her head. “It’s going to make what we’re doing much harder.”
“You think it’s a mistake.”
She steps closer, her heels clicking against the polished floor. “I think you’re letting your guard down. And when you do that, people get hurt. Including her.”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut. “I would never let anything happen to her.”
“You can’t control everything, Adrien. You’re playing with fire here. If anyone finds out what you’re planning—what we’re planning—it won’t just be your neck on the line. It’ll be hers too.”
Before I can say anything else, the door to the office bursts open a second time within minutes, and Matteo strides in, his laptop bag slung over his shoulder.
“That’s why you’re both here. To make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Diane shoots Matteo a look, her lips pressed into a thin line, but she doesn’t argue further.
Matteo sets his bag down on the conference table, his expression serious. “I have the information you requested,” he says, pulling out a sleek tablet from his bag. “Rafael Silva may actually have one weakness we could leverage. We just need a plan.”
The plan is simple, but it requires luck and precision—two things I never rely on. But for Tiffany, I’m willing to gamble. Matteo’s intel is solid, and Diane’s skepticism serves as a necessary counterbalance to my impulsiveness. We spend hours mapping out every possible scenario, every contingency. Rafael is just the beginning, the first of Dean’s associates to make a move. Tiffany’s list of potential threats is longer than I’d like, but if we can take down Rafael, it sends a clear message to the others. They’ll think twice before coming after her.
Diane clears her throat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You’re sure about this? If this goes wrong, it’ll be hard to come back from it.”
“I’m sure,” I say without hesitation. “But I might need Daniel’s help.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Daniel? The same Daniel you fired for helping Tiffany escape?”
“He’s one of the few people I trust to have my back, even now. I need him on this.”
Despite everything that’s happened, Daniel’s loyalty runs deep. He might be angry, might even hate me right now, but I know he’ll come through when it counts. And I did promise Tiffany to give him a second chance.
“Do either of you have Daniel’s contact information?”
Surprisingly, Diane hands me her phone. “He’s in the contacts under ‘D’ and he’s currently in London.”
“How did you...?”
She shrugs. “I had a feeling you’d eventually forgive him. It’s good to be prepared.”
I take a few steps away from the coffee table, walking back to my chair, my fingers hovering over the screen as I dial Daniel’s number. The line rings for a few seconds, and then his voice comes through, sharp and guarded.
“Daniel here.”
“It’s Adrien.”
There’s a pause, heavy with tension. “What do you want?”
I don’t waste time. “I’ll need you in Mexico City next week. The flight tickets and a few thousand dollars in cash will be waiting for you in your hotel room tomorrow. I trust you still remember how to handle yourself in situations like this.”
I can almost picture Daniel’s face, his brow furrowed in that familiar way it does when he’s caught off guard.
“I still didn’t hear a sorry,” Daniel says. “Fuck off, Adrien.”
“That’s not very polite.”
“I don’t care. I want nothing to do with you, and I want nothing to do with this job. Let Luis handle it from now on.”
I glance over at Diane and Matteo, who are watching me from across the room. They can’t hear Daniel’s side of the conversation, but the tension in my posture must be telling.
“Tell me, Daniel.” I rise from my chair and the leather creaks under my weight. “What are you planning to do tonight or tomorrow? Drink? Screw around? Get high?”
I can hear Daniel grinding his teeth.
Good. I’ve hit a nerve.
“You’ve been doing that for the past few weeks,” I continue. “Is that how you want to spend your life? Dulling your mind and wasting your time?”
It’s a low blow, and I know it. Daniel has always had his vices, but he’s never let them interfere with work before.
When Daniel speaks, his voice is tight with barely restrained anger. “Why do you even care?”
“I don’t care, not really,” I lie. Maintaining the appearance of a cold, calculating businessman is easier this way. “But I trust you enough to offer you this opportunity if you want it. Do you want it?”
The question lingers between us like a lifeline thrown into choppy waters. I hold my breath, waiting for Daniel to grab onto it or let it slip away.
Silence fills the phone line, long and unyielding. My mind races, replaying every misstep, every harsh word that led us to this moment.
I want to say more, to bridge the chasm between us, but I bite my tongue. This is Daniel’s choice now. I’ve extended the olive branch; it’s up to him whether to take it or snap it in two.
I turn away from the desk. The Empire Heights skyline stretches before me, a sea of glass and steel reaching toward the sky.
My reflection stares back at me. I can see the tension in my jaw, the worry lines etched around my eyes.
Behind me, I can sense Diane and Matteo watching, their silence heavy with expectation. They’re waiting, just as I am, for Daniel’s response. I wonder what they see when they look at me. Do they see the unflappable leader, or do they catch glimpses of the doubt that gnaws at my insides?
The sound of Daniel’s breathing fills my ear, ragged and uneven. “Fine. I’ll fly to Mexico City and meet you there.”
I exhale slowly. “Good. I’ll see you then.”
As I end the call, I turn back to face Diane and Matteo. Their expressions are a study in contrast—Diane’s knowing smirk, Matteo’s raised eyebrow.
“He’s in,” I announce, handing Diane her phone. “Now we can move forward with the plan.”
Diane slips her phone back into her pocket and nods. “You’re lucky he still has a soft spot for you.”
I glance at my watch. “Fortunate or not, we’ve got things to do. Let’s get moving because I intend to leave the office in two hours.”
I have one final evening with Tiffany before my departure, and I intend to make the most of every second.