Chapter 4 - Dinner Was Never Part of the Plan
Victor didn't answer Harper immediately.
That was the first mistake.
The second was believing she would accept silence.
“Route Seventeen,” she repeated.
Arthur remained near the window.
Victor walked toward the kitchen counter and poured himself water he didn't want.
“It was a freight corridor.”
“Was?”
“Yes.”
“Why is someone breaking into my apartment over an old freight corridor?”
Victor drank.
Harper crossed her arms.
“You're doing the mysterious thing again.”
“It's complicated.”
“Complicated is taxes. Someone writing threatening messages in my apartment is different.”
Victor placed the glass down.
“My father operated several private freight routes before Gallow Holdings became legitimate.”
Harper stared at him.
“Legitimate?”
Victor's jaw tightened.
Arthur intervened.
“The organization used transportation contracts to move high-value private cargo for clients who didn't always want official records.”
Harper looked between them.
“Smuggling?”
“Sometimes,” Victor said.
She absorbed that.
“Illegal goods?”
“Not under me.”
“Under your father?”
Victor said nothing.
“That means yes.”
“My father believed law was another obstacle rich men could negotiate.”
Harper slowly sat.
“What happened to Route Seventeen?”
“It disappeared.”
“How does a route disappear?”
“When every record is destroyed.”
Arthur looked toward Victor.
“Almost every record.”
Victor's eyes shifted.
Harper noticed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The face conversation.”
Arthur exhaled.
Victor ignored him.
“Route Seventeen connected three private freight yards along the river. My father used it to hide money, assets, and cargo from people he didn't trust.”
“Malcolm Vane?”
Victor nodded.
“Vane managed Northline Transit. He believed he was my father's partner.”
“He wasn't?”
“My father didn't have partners.”
Harper looked around Victor's empty penthouse.
“Runs in the family.”
Victor's expression tightened.
She immediately regretted it.
“Sorry.”
“No. You're right.”
The admission surprised her.
Victor walked toward the windows.
“Vane discovered my father had hidden something inside Route Seventeen. He tried to take it. My father ruined him before he could.”
“What was hidden?”
Victor looked back.
“I don't know.”
Harper laughed once without humor.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if I knew, Vane wouldn't need you.”
Silence.
That logic frightened her.
Arthur's phone vibrated.
He glanced down.
“Building security recovered hallway footage from Harper's apartment.”
Victor turned.
“Show me.”
The video displayed three people entering Harper's building dressed like maintenance workers.
One disabled the hallway camera for eleven minutes.
Another carried a case.
The third stayed near the elevator.
Harper leaned closer.
“Wait.”
Arthur paused.
“What?”
“The third man.”
She pointed.
“I've seen him.”
Victor's attention sharpened.
“Where?”
“At BrightLine.”
“When?”
“Maybe two weeks ago. He came in asking about a branding proposal.”
Arthur zoomed.
“Name?”
“I don't remember.”
“Think.”
Harper closed her eyes.
Victor watched her struggle.
Then she opened them.
“Daniel something.”
Arthur typed rapidly.
“Daniel Ross?”
“No.”
“Daniel Mercer?”
Harper snapped her fingers.
“Yes.”
Arthur stopped typing.
Victor's entire expression changed.
Harper saw it.
“You know him too.”
Victor's voice became dangerously quiet.
“Daniel Mercer was my father's accountant.”
Harper stood.
“Your dead father's accountant has been inside my office?”
“He was supposed to be dead.”
The room went still.
Harper stared.
Arthur's hand moved toward his phone.
“Mercer died in a car accident eight years ago.”
“Apparently not,” Victor said.
Arthur immediately began issuing instructions to his security team.
Harper walked toward Victor.
“You're telling me two men connected to your father, both supposedly gone for years, suddenly show up because I stepped into your elevator?”
“No.”
She waited.
Victor looked directly at her.
“They were already moving.”
That realization landed slowly.
Harper whispered, “I didn't start this.”
“No.”
“I just became useful.”
Victor hated the word.
“Yes.”
Harper turned away.
For the first time since he'd met her, the humor disappeared completely.
Victor stepped closer.
“I won't let them hurt you.”
“You don't know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because they'll have to get through me.”
Harper looked up.
“That sounds impressive when you say it.”
“It wasn't meant to.”
“What was it meant to be?”
“A fact.”
Their eyes held.
Neither noticed Arthur watching.
Victor reached toward Harper's face, stopping before touching her.
A strand of hair had fallen across her cheek.
His fingers hovered.
Harper didn't move away.
Victor gently brushed it back.
The contact lasted one second.
Maybe two.
But Victor's heart reacted as though he had stepped from a roof.
Harper's breathing changed.
His did too.
Arthur cleared his throat.
Victor stepped back immediately.
“I found Mercer.”
Victor turned.
Arthur showed them a corporate registration.
Daniel Mercer was currently using the identity Daniel Merrick.
He owned a consulting firm.
And that firm had one major client.
BrightLine Creative.
Harper stared.
“My company?”
Arthur nodded.
“BrightLine hired his consultancy six months ago.”
Victor looked toward Harper.
“This wasn't chance.”
“What wasn't?”
“You entering my building.”
“I work there.”
“BrightLine moved into Gallow Tower four months ago.”
Harper's eyes widened.
Arthur understood first.
“They positioned her.”
Victor's jaw tightened.
Harper shook her head.
“No. I applied for this job.”
“Who interviewed you?”
“My manager.”
“Who selected your résumé?”
She stopped.
“I don't know.”
Victor turned to Arthur.
“Find out.”
Arthur left the room to make calls.
Harper stared at Victor.
“You think someone hired me specifically to get close to you?”
“I think someone wanted opportunities.”
“But I used the private elevator by accident.”
“Yes.”
“So they couldn't have planned that.”
“No.”
Harper took a breath.
“Good.”
Victor frowned.
“Why is that good?”
“Because I'd really hate to discover my coffee disaster was part of an international conspiracy.”
Despite everything, Victor laughed.
It escaped before he could stop it.
A quiet, brief sound.
Harper froze.
Then pointed.
“There.”
Victor's smile vanished.
“No.”
“That was definitely human.”
“You imagined it.”
“You laughed.”
“I didn't.”
“Arthur!”
Arthur shouted from the other room.
“I heard it.”
Victor closed his eyes.
Harper smiled.
For one small moment, fear loosened its grip.
Then Harper's phone rang.
Unknown number.
Victor's eyes opened.
“Don't answer.”
Harper looked at the screen.
The phone stopped.
Immediately a text arrived.
A photograph.
Victor sleeping at his desk years earlier.
Much younger.
Beside him stood his father.
On the desk between them lay a red freight ledger.
Below the photograph was a message.
THE ROUTE WAS NEVER DESTROYED.
A second text appeared.
ASK HIM WHERE HIS FATHER BURIED THE ORIGINAL LEDGER.
Victor stared at the image.
His face changed.
Harper noticed.
“You've seen that ledger.”
Victor said nothing.
“Victor.”
He slowly looked at her.
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“I thought my father burned it.”
“And now?”
Victor looked toward the city.
“Now I think everything he told me about Route Seventeen was a lie.”
Across town, in an abandoned office overlooking the Chicago River, Malcolm Vane watched a live security feed of Victor's building.
Daniel Mercer stood behind him.
Vane smiled.
“He's attached already.”
Mercer looked at Harper's photograph.
“Too quickly.”
“Men like Victor don't fall slowly.”
Vane leaned toward the screen.
“They resist until they're already falling.”
“And the girl?”
Vane's smile disappeared.
“The girl gets us the ledger.”
“And if she doesn't?”
Vane looked at Victor's image.
May you like
“Then she gets us Victor.”
---
