Chapter 23 #2
She studies me, then leans in further. “I’ve got names,” she says. “Passwords. Screenshots. Transfers. Routing. Enough to make her bleed.”
“Which part,” I ask, and I keep it simple.
Sabrina exhales, then speaks like she’s reciting something she’s repeated to herself.
“Lane Strategies isn’t a firm,” she says. “It’s a funnel. She targets companies that need something, she offers access and outcomes, she routes payments through shells, and she labels it consulting.”
I don’t interrupt, because I want clean audio and I want her to keep talking.
“She fast-tracks permits,” Sabrina continues. “She softens audits. She nudges bids. She takes a cut, then she hides it behind invoices.”
My stomach tightens. It fits Victoria, and I hate that it fits.
“And Gavin,” I ask.
Sabrina’s mouth twitches. “Enforcement and access,” she says. “He pressures people who don’t pay, and he digs for leverage, and he’s useful in the way men like him are useful to women like her.”
“You’re scared of Victoria,” I say.
Sabrina’s smile dies for real this time. “You should be too.”
I hold her gaze. “Prove it.”
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a flash drive, then slides it across the table like she’s sliding a bill.
“One account,” she says. “Fifty grand. Through a shell in the Caymans. Her authorization trail is thin, but it’s there.”
I don’t touch it yet.
“You came prepared,” I say.
“I came to stay alive.” Her eyes flick toward the room, then back to me, like she’s picturing someone walking in.
“You’re doing this for you,” I say.
“Obviously,” she snaps, then reins it back in and forces the smile again. “But it helps you. You want her finished, and Ethan wants her finished, and I can give you what you need.”
I let the silence sit for a beat.
“What do you want in return,” I ask.
“Protection,” she says. “A recorded agreement. A lawyer. Terms.”
“And if we say no,” I ask.
Her smile turns thin. “Then I walk, and you stay exposed.”
I keep my face calm. “Here’s what happens.”
She watches me closely, like she didn’t expect me to speak first.
“You give enough tonight for verification,” I continue. “Then you meet again in a controlled setting, with counsel and recording, and you give the rest. If you lie, if you hide, if you try to sell both sides, we’re done.”
Sabrina’s eyebrows lift. “You’re making demands.”
“I’m setting terms,” I reply. “You want a deal, then you accept you’re not in charge.”
She studies me for a long second then nods once, slow. “Fine.”
I pick up the flash drive with two fingers and slip it into my bag.
“You leave first,” I tell her. “No lingering, no extra conversation.”
She laughs once, and it’s sharp. “You’ve changed.”
“I had to,” I answer.
She slides out of the booth and walks away without looking back.
I wait longer than thirty seconds, because I’m not giving her an easy line from me to the door. I do the check-in with the code word Ethan gave me, and I don’t move until the response comes back.
Clear.
Then I exit through the side and get into the car Harrison arranged. The driver doesn’t speak, and I don’t ask questions, because questions aren’t useful right now.
When I get back to the apartment, Ethan is already inside.
He isn’t pacing. He’s set up the offline laptop on the table and a small recorder sits beside it. The case it came from is locked and tucked against the wall like it lives there.
He looks up the second I step in. “Any trouble?”
“No,” I say, and I pull the flash drive out of my bag. “She wants immunity.”
Ethan takes it and plugs it into the offline system, and his fingers move fast while his face stays controlled. He reads for a minute, scrolls, then stops.
“Trace checks out,” he says. “Shell entity is one we flagged.”
I cross my arms. “So she isn’t bluffing.”
“She’s panicking.”
“Or she’s setting us up,” I say.
He looks up at me. “This is too specific to be fake, and it’s too risky to hand over if she’s still loyal.”
I stare at the screen, then back at him. “Spell it out. What’s Victoria doing.”
Ethan’s voice is steady. “Pay-to-play. She sells access and outcomes, routes the payments through shells, and keeps the paper thin.”
“And Gavin,” I say.
“Collection and leverage,” he replies. “He pressures targets, and he runs errands in systems he shouldn’t touch.”
I nod once, because it fits, and because I hate that it fits. Sabrina wasn’t lying.
“So Sabrina has receipts,” I say.
“She has enough to trade,” Ethan answers. “She’s also the type who tries to trade twice.”
I take my shoes off and press my toes into the floor, because grounding is the only thing keeping my thoughts from sprinting.
“Then we pull her into a recorded deal and lock her to the terms,” I say.
“Carefully,” Ethan replies. “She burns bridges when she’s scared.”
I look at him. “She wants a meeting.”
He doesn’t blink. “With counsel present, recorded, and controlled.”
“Yes,” I say. “She wants guarantees.”
“Then we give her a deadline,” he replies. “And we do it on our ground.”
The next evening, he sets it up, and he doesn’t argue when I tell him I’m not walking into any room without structure and exits and people who aren’t his.
It’s a private space, wired, recorded, and controlled, and there’s an agent present who looks like a regular guy until you notice how he watches the door and the corners.
Sabrina shows up with sunglasses she doesn’t remove.
“I want this recorded,” she says immediately.
“It will be,” the agent replies, flat and professional.
Ethan keeps his hands visible, posture calm, and he lets the agent do the framing, because Sabrina relaxes when rules exist on paper.
She places a thin folder on the table.
“There’s a notarized affidavit,” she says. “Numbers. Context. Names.”
Ethan opens it and flips through, and I see the moment his focus sharpens, because something new just landed.
On the first page is a name that isn’t a company.
It’s a politician.
Ethan swears under his breath, quiet and controlled, and his eyes lift to Sabrina.
“That’s why she’s stayed protected,” Sabrina says, and her smile returns, satisfied. “The money wasn’t just hidden, it was buying favors.”
Ethan turns another page, and the routing paths are clean enough to follow and ugly enough to ruin everyone they touch.
“Is this all of it?” Ethan asks.
“No,” Sabrina replies. “It’s enough.”
The team copies and logs everything, the agent speaks the agreement into the recorder, and Sabrina signs like she’s done it before, because she has, just not on this side of the table.
When she leaves, she looks at me like we’re allies.
“You’re welcome,” she says.
“I’m not thanking you,” I answer.
She laughs and walks out.
When the door shuts, Ethan exhales once, and his hand tightens on the folder.
“She just gave us what we need to reach Victoria,” he says.
“And she pulled someone bigger into it,” I reply.
Ethan’s eyes hold mine. “Yes.”
I stare at the documents, then at the recorder, then at Ethan, and I can feel my anger settling into something that isn’t panic anymore.
“Where does this put us?” I ask.
“It puts Victoria in range,” he says. “It puts Sabrina in range, and it keeps Gavin in range even from a cell.”
“And the politician?”
“That brings in people who don’t like scrutiny.” His voice stays even, but the tension in him doesn’t.
Later, I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. My body refuses to settle, not because I’m afraid, but because I’m furious, and because fury is easier to hold than helplessness.
I roll onto my side and rest my palm on my stomach, and I don’t pretend I know exactly what I’m feeling yet, but the awareness of it is there, and it makes my throat tighten anyway.
“You’re not going to grow up afraid of these people,” I whisper. “Not while I’m here.”
Ethan comes out of the bathroom and crouches in front of me, then presses his forehead lightly to my belly and breathes once like he needs the reminder that this is real and solid.
“She’s going to make a move,” he says quietly.
“She’s going to make a mistake,” I reply.
He looks up at me, eyes steady, and I can see the restraint in him, because he wants to do everything himself and he’s forcing himself not to.
I reach down and touch his cheek, then keep it simple. “Let’s finish this.”