Part 5
The screen of my laptop glowed in the dim light of the hospital café,
the interface was clean,
it was efficient,
it was beautiful,
I watched as the first million dollars vanished,
it moved from the offshore account in the Cayman Islands,
it traveled through a labyrinth of shell companies,
it landed in a blind trust I had set up years ago,
a trust that Daniel didn't know existed,
a trust that was legally,
impenetrably,
mine,
my heart rate did not spike,
my palms did not sweat,
I was ice,
I was stone,
I was a machine of cold,
calculated vengeance,
I took a sip of my coffee,
it was bitter,
it was perfect,
Daniel was still in the hospital room,
he was likely pacing the floor,
trying to find a way to keep his facade together,
he had no idea that his empire was hemorrhaging cash,
he had no idea that his credit lines were being severed,
one by one,
like a spider cutting the threads of a web,
I checked my email,
the SEC had replied to my anonymous tip,
they were launching an inquiry,
they were requesting documents,
they were preparing to strike,
the timing was exquisite,
the alignment was celestial,
I stood up,
I smoothed my coat,
I walked back toward the elevator,
the reflection in the glass was of a woman who had it all,
a woman who was untouchable,
a woman who was coming for blood,
when I returned to the room,
the atmosphere had changed,
it was heavier,
it was suffocating,
Daniel was sitting in the chair,
he was holding his head in his hands,
he looked older,
he looked tired,
he looked like a man who had seen a ghost,
Marissa was standing by the window,
she was looking out at the rain,
she looked broken,
"Did you find the surgeon?"
I asked,
my voice sweet,
my voice gentle,
Daniel looked up,
his eyes were bloodshot,
"He doesn't exist,
Claire,"
he whispered,
"I called the hospital board,"
"they have no record of any surgeon by that name,"
"they have no record of a match,"
I feigned shock,
I gasped,
I put a hand to my chest,
"What?"
I asked,
"That's impossible,"
"that's absurd,"
"the files are right there,"
I pointed to the folder on the table,
the folder I had planted,
the folder that was a trap,
"Look,"
I said,
"look again,"
he stood up,
he grabbed the folder,
he opened it,
he began to read,
he began to realize,
the documents were fakes,
they were masterpieces of forgery,
they were designed to lead him into a dead end,
they were designed to waste his time,
they were designed to drive him mad,
he flipped through the pages,
his breathing was jagged,
he was spiraling,
he was falling,
and I was the one pushing him,
gently,
May you like
slowly,
into the abyss.
