Chapter 33
DANIEL
Daniel answers on the second ring.
“Tom.” His voice is smooth, steady, practised — the kind of tone he uses in court, calibrated to sound reasonable, in control.
On the other end, Tom’s voice spikes. “Why are you following me?”
Daniel smiles faintly, rifling through a stack of papers on Tom’s desk. Bank statements. Receipts. Tedious, but sometimes the banal hides the important.
“I’m not following you,” he says, pitching it light, almost hurt. “Honestly, Tom. That paranoia of yours again. I just wanted to talk. Clear the air.”
“I’ve seen you. Twice. Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying.” His fingers slide open a drawer. Pens. Cables. A spare set of keys. He pockets them without hesitation. “You’ve blocked my number. What choice do I have? I’ve been trying to reach you, to be nice. You can’t fault me for that.”
“Being nice?” Tom’s laugh is sharp, bitter. “You call showing up in the street, stalking me, ‘being nice’? Stop texting me. Stop following me. Just—stop.”
The line quivers with Tom’s anger. For a moment, Daniel lets the silence stretch, savouring it, because anger is still attention. It means Tom still feels something.
“Tom,” he says softly, coaxing now. “You’re being aggressive. Why? I don’t understand. I’ve always been here for you. Always. I never stopped caring.”
He sits down on the desk chair in Tom’s office.
“And I never will.”
There’s a sharp inhale on the other end. Then Tom’s voice, final and shaking: “Stay away from me.”
The line goes dead.
Daniel lowers the phone slowly, staring at the dark screen. The rejection hits sharp, but he doesn’t flinch. He’s used to this dance. Push, pull, block, unblock. Love, fury, silence. He knows Tom better than Tom knows himself — knows that outrage now is a doorway later.
He’ll take another approach. He has time.
At the desk, he pulls Tom’s laptop towards him, flips it open, and types with practised ease. Passwords are never difficult; Tom’s used the same one for years.
He scrolls fast and deliberate. Not here for browsing, not here to wallow in nostalgia. He’s looking for something specific. Something he needs before it’s too late.
His fingers drum against the keys. He’s a lawyer, after all. He knows exactly what he can get away with — and exactly what he’s willing to risk.
Because Tom may think he’s finished with him.
But Daniel knows better.
There’s far too much at stake.