Part 3
The heavy glass doors of the airport terminal slid open,
allowing a blast of freezing rain to hit Daniel square in the face.
He stood on the curb,
his expensive suit soaking wet within seconds,
his hair plastered to his forehead.
Behind him,
Tessa was weeping openly,
her mascara running down her pale cheeks in dark,
ugly streaks.
"This can’t be happening,
Daniel,"
she wailed,
clutching her designer handbag as if it could save her.
"My father’s reputation,
our names,
the cruise—everything is ruined!"
"Shut up,
Tessa!"
Daniel snapped,
his patience entirely gone as he aggressively swiped at his phone screen.
"I am trying to think,
and your screaming isn’t helping!"
Her mother stood beside them,
her face pale with a mixture of shock and sheer embarrassment.
"Daniel,
fix this,"
she demanded,
her voice shaking with an aristocratic rage that had no real power left.
"Call your contacts in the tech department."
"Tell them Clara has had a psychological breakdown."
"Tell them she is fabricating these lies because of her grief."
"I can’t!"
Daniel shouted,
turning around to face her,
his eyes wide with a frantic,
animalistic terror.
"She blocked my access!"
"My corporate phone is dead,
my email is deactivated,
and my personal cards are frozen!"
"She didn't just lock the door,"
"she tore down the entire house!"
Her father stood a few paces away,
staring blankly at the passing traffic,
looking suddenly like an old,
broken man.
"The shares,"
the older man muttered,
his voice barely audible over the sound of the pouring rain.
"Daniel,
what about my shares?"
"They are tied to the company,
Arthur,"
Daniel hissed,
wiping the rainwater from his eyes.
"And right now,
Clara has total control of the company operations."
"If she proves fraud,
the board can freeze your assets too."
"You stupid fool!"
Arthur yelled,
suddenly turning on Daniel with a ferocity no one expected.
"You told me she was clueless!"
"You told me she was spending all her time crying in that penthouse!"
"You said she wouldn't notice the transfers until it was too late!"
"She wasn't supposed to!"
Daniel screamed back,
stepping close to the older man,
their faces inches apart in the freezing dark.
"Someone leaked the information!"
"Someone told her about the office microphone!"
Tessa gasped,
looking between the two men as panic gripped her throat.
"The microphone?"
"Daniel,
you said that room was completely secure!"
"It was!"
he roared,
running his hands through his wet hair in sheer frustration.
"I checked it myself!"
"She must have installed a secondary network,
something completely separate from the main server."
"She trapped us,"
the mother whispered,
her hands flying to her mouth as the full reality set in.
"She knew the whole time."
"She let us buy the outfits,
she let us plan the party,"
"and she waited until we were surrounded by people to destroy us."
"She wanted the humiliation,"
Tessa said,
her voice trembling with a deep,
sudden realization.
"She wanted everyone to see us fall."
A yellow taxi pulled up to the curb,
its headlights cutting through the dark,
misty rain.
Daniel didn't wait for the others;
he grabbed the door handle and yanked it open,
sliding into the back seat.
"Daniel,
wait!"
Tessa shrieked,
trying to follow him,
but he slammed the door shut before she could reach the handle.
"Drive,"
Daniel ordered the cab driver,
his voice trembling with rage.
"Where to,
buddy?"
the driver asked,
looking at him through the rearview mirror with a look of mild disgust.
"The financial district,"
Daniel barked,
leaning his head against the cold glass of the window.
"And step on it."
As the taxi pulled away from the curb,
he looked back to see Tessa and her parents standing in the rain,
looking small,
desperate,
and completely abandoned.
He didn't care about them anymore;
he only cared about survival.
He had a backup laptop in his private apartment,
one that contained copies of the encryption keys for the offshore accounts.
If he could just transfer the remaining five million dollars before Monday morning,
he could leave the country and start over.
He wouldn't let Clara win;
he refused to let a grieving woman dictate his destiny.
His fingers clutched his damp knees,
his mind spinning with dark,
frantic strategies as the city lights blurred past.
"You think you are clever,
Clara,"
he muttered under his breath,
May you like
his eyes fixed on the distant skyscrapers.
"But I am not going down without a fight."
