The father-in-law had found the loan a year later, and instead of pressing charges, he'd done something colder. He'd made Daniel sign a paper. A confession. A signed, notarized admission of forgery held over his head like a blade, on the condition that Daniel pay back every cent, or the old man would take it to the police, and take Lily, too. Because what judge gives custody to a convicted felon?
That was the real reason for the $19,000 in debt. Not medical bills. A forged loan, a dead wife, and a signed confession sitting in a safe deposit box belonging to a man who hated him. And now, Frank Delgado had a copy of it. You understand what this is?
Delgado said, laying it on Roland Cross's desk, "Signed confession of forgery, financial crime. He committed a felony, and the father-in-law's been sitting on it for 3 years using it to squeeze him. " He tapped the paper. "This is the leverage on the kid you wanted. You don't threaten the girl directly. You threaten the father with the one thing that takes the girl away from him.
You make him choose between Victoria Hale and his own daughter. " Roland Cross read the confession twice. "Where's the original? " "Safe deposit box. Father-in-law guy named Walter Pine out in Jersey. But a copy's plenty for what you need. You don't have to prosecute him.
You just have to make him believe you will. " Delgado sat back. "You put this in front of that janitor, Mr. Cross, and you tell him walk away from Victoria Hale. Give me what I need to take her chair, or I make one phone call, and a felon loses custody of a 7-year-old with asthma. " He shrugged. "No father on Earth picks the boss over the kid. He'll fold.
They always fold when it's the kid. " Cross looked at the confession for a long, satisfied moment. "Set up a meeting," he said, "somewhere quiet, just me and Mr. Carter. " He smiled. "I'd like to watch his face. " That was a Tuesday. The meeting happened on Wednesday at 4:00 p. M.
In a hotel bar Daniel had never been to chosen because it was the kind of place where powerful men had quiet conversations that never happened. Daniel almost didn't go. The text had come from an unknown number, Roland Cross wants 10 minutes. Your daughter's future depends on you showing up. 4:00 p.
M. Come alone. Tell no one, especially not Victoria. And Daniel had stood in his kitchen staring at it with his heart hammering, every instinct screaming that this was the thing he'd been dreading, the shoe he'd known would eventually drop. He thought about calling Victoria.
He came very close. He Because the text said Lily's future depended on it. And when it came to Lily, Daniel didn't gamble. He went alone, and he told no one. That was his first mistake.
Cross was already there when Daniel arrived, sitting in a corner booth with a glass of something amber he wasn't drinking, and a leather folder on the table in front of him. He gestured to the seat across from him like a man welcoming an old friend. Mr. Carter, thank you for coming. Sit, please. Can I get you something?
I'll stand. You'll want to sit for this. Cross's voice was pleasant, and that was the worst part, how pleasant it was. Sit down, Daniel. I'm not your enemy.
I'm about to become the most important friend you've ever had. Sit. Daniel sat. Cross opened the folder. He turned it around, slid it across the table, and Daniel looked down at his own signature at the bottom of a document he'd hoped no one would ever see again, and every drop of blood in his body went cold.
Walter Prine, Cross said gently, sends his regards. Or rather, he doesn't know I have this yet, but he will if you make me tell him. Forgery, Daniel, a felony. You forged a loan in your father-in-law's name to pay for a cancer drug that didn't work. He shook his head with something that looked almost like sympathy, and was infinitely worse.
I have to tell you, when my man brought me this, I actually felt for you. I did. A dying wife, a desperate husband. I understand desperation, but the law doesn't care about your reasons. And a judge deciding custody.
A judge looks at a convicted felon with a forgery on his record and a 7-year-old daughter, and that judge does the math very quickly. Daniel couldn't speak. His mouth had gone completely dry. Here's what's going to happen. Cross went on closing the folder, sliding it back toward himself.
You're going to help me. Nothing dramatic. I want documentation of Victoria's condition, her medical situation, the hardware in her spine, the falls, all of it. You have access to Dr. Reyes' communications to her private penthouse, to everything. I want proof on paper that she's physically unfit to run this company.
You get me that and this He patted the folder. Disappears. Walter Pryne never gets a phone call. Your daughter keeps her father. You keep your freedom.
He smiled. You even keep the salary, honestly. I'm not an unreasonable man. Once I have Victoria's chair, I'll have every reason to keep you happy and quiet. And if I say no, then I call Walter Pryne this afternoon and tell him exactly where you've been spending your nights and exactly how much you're being paid.
And I suggest to him that a man doing that well can certainly afford to pay back what he stole immediately or face the consequences. Cross spread his hands. Pryne's been looking for a reason to take that little girl from you for years, Daniel. We both know it. I'd just be giving him the push and you'd lose everything.
Your daughter, your freedom, all of it. Over a woman who, let's be honest, will discard you the moment you're no longer useful to her. That's what people like Victoria do. It's what people like us do. Daniel stared at the man across the table.
And here is what Roland Cross did not understand because he had never in his life met a person like Daniel Carter, and so he had no way to account for one. You know what the funny thing is? Daniel said quietly. Enlighten me. You spent all this money, hired investigators, dug up the worst thing I ever did, the thing I've been ashamed of for 3 years, the thing that wakes me up at night.
Daniel's voice was steady, now steadier than it had any right to be. And you think you've got me. You think you're holding the one card that breaks me. He looked Cross dead in the eye. But you made one mistake, Mr. Cross.