Chapter 6: The Lunch That Tasted Like Regret
I didn't go to the restaurant where Victoria and Daniel Voss were meeting. No need. Harlan had arranged everything I required remotely. A discreet audio feed patched through a small device in Voss's jacket pocket—nothing traceable, nothing dramatic. Just a tiny microphone disguised as a button. The feed came straight to my phone, crystal clear, like I was sitting at the table with them.
I drove to a quiet café a few blocks away instead. Parked in the back lot. Ordered black coffee and a corner booth with a view of the street. Sat with my phone on the table, earpiece in, volume low. The place was half empty. Soft jazz playing. Nobody paid attention to the man in the dark coat staring out the window.
The feed clicked on at twelve fifteen.
Victoria's voice came through first. Smooth. Confident. The same tone she used in boardrooms and on stage at the gala.
"…so glad you could make time, Daniel. I know your schedule is brutal."
Voss chuckled. Polite. "Wouldn't miss it. Langford's excited about this. The numbers look solid."
I pictured her smiling across the table. Probably in something tailored and expensive. Hair perfect. Makeup flawless. The way she always looked when she wanted something.
They ordered. Salmon for her. Steak for him. Wine. White. Crisp.
Conversation drifted to surface things first. Weather. Traffic. The new gallery opening downtown. Then she steered it.
"So," she said, voice dropping a little. "The board meeting yesterday. It went… longer than expected."
Voss made a noncommittal sound. "Boards do that."
A pause. Glasses clinking.
"I heard there were some questions," she continued. "About old accounts. Transfers."
Another pause. Longer this time.
Voss answered carefully. "There were. Anonymous tip. Some spreadsheets floating around. Nothing concrete yet, but it raised eyebrows."
Her laugh was light. Forced. "Anonymous tips are the worst part of this business. Probably a disgruntled ex-employee. We've had our share."
"Probably," Voss said. But he didn't sound convinced.
I took a sip of coffee. It was bitter. Good.
Victoria pushed on. "The merger timeline is still on track, right? We're ready to sign term sheets next week if Langford green-lights it."
Voss exhaled. "We're reviewing everything again. Due diligence never stops."
Silence stretched. I could almost hear her mind working.
"Daniel," she said softly. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then: "I got a warning last night. From someone who claims to know your family. Intimately."
Her voice sharpened. "Who?"
"Didn't give a name. Just facts. Debt schedules. Offshore stuff. And something about two million that went missing years ago. Under false employee names."
The line went quiet except for the faint clink of silverware.
"That's ridiculous," she said finally. "We've audited everything. Multiple times."
"Have you?"
Another beat.
"Victoria," Voss said. "I like you. I like the deal. But Langford doesn't do surprises. If there's even a hint of fraud, we walk. No second chances."
Her breathing changed. Shallower.
"I don't know what this person is trying to do," she said. "But it's sabotage. Pure and simple."
"Maybe," Voss replied. "Or maybe it's someone you hurt. Someone who's been waiting."
The table went still.
I leaned forward in my booth. The café jazz felt too loud suddenly.
Victoria spoke again. Quieter. "You think it's Ethan?"
Voss didn't confirm. Didn't deny.
"He's nobody," she said. Almost to herself. "He was nobody then. He's less now."
"People change," Voss said simply.
She laughed. Short. Bitter. "Not him. He's the same pathetic man who scrubbed floors and smiled while we laughed at him. He doesn't have the spine for this."
I stared at my coffee cup. The surface rippled slightly when I set it down too hard.
Voss cleared his throat. "Look. I'm not accusing anyone. I'm just saying… be careful. If there's anything buried, it's going to surface. And when it does, Langford won't wait for explanations."
The server came by. Refilled water. They waited until she left.
Victoria's voice dropped even lower. "If this merger falls through because of some ghost from the past, I'll lose everything. The board will blame me. My mother will—"
She stopped.
Voss finished for her. "You'll be exposed."
A long silence.
Then she said, "I'll handle it."
"How?"
"I'll find out who's behind this. And I'll make them stop."
Voss sounded almost amused. "Good luck with that."
They finished lunch quickly after that. Small talk. Forced smiles I could hear in their voices. The check came. Voss paid. Gentleman.
They walked out together. Feed caught the street noise. Cars. Horns. Her heels clicking on pavement.
Then the mic picked up her voice again. Alone now.
She was on her phone.
"Mother? It's me. We have a problem. Someone's digging. Old transfers. The two million. Yes. I think it's him. No, I don't know how. But we need to find him. Fast."
She hung up.
I pulled the earpiece out. Set it on the table.
My hands were steady. No shaking. No rage boiling over. Just cold clarity.
She still thought I was the same man. The one who took it. The one who stayed quiet.
She had no idea.
I paid for my coffee. Left a generous tip. Walked out into the afternoon sun.
The street was busy. People rushing. Lives moving forward.
Mine was moving too.
I got into the Audi. Started the engine.
Phone buzzed. Harlan.
She just left the restaurant. Heading home. Voss is on his way to the airport. He sent an email to Langford's legal team. Subject: Additional DD Required. Re: Potential Irregularities.
I typed back: Let her dig. Give her nothing yet.
Then I drove.
Not home.
To the old apartment we used to share. The one she still lived in.
I parked across the street. Watched from the car.
She arrived twenty minutes later. Stepped out of her Mercedes. Looked around once. Nervous. Then hurried inside.
I waited.
An hour passed.
She came out again. Different clothes. Jeans. Sunglasses. Carrying a small box.
She got into her car. Drove off.
I followed at a distance.
She went to the bank. The same one where the accounts used to be.
I parked. Watched her go in.
She stayed forty minutes.
Came out empty-handed. Face pale.
Back in her car. She sat there a long time. Head bowed. Shoulders moving like she was crying.
Or maybe laughing at how stupid she'd been.
I didn't move.
Just watched.
Then my phone buzzed again.
Harlan.
She just requested access to the old joint account statements. The ones tied to the framed transfers. The bank denied her. Said the account was frozen pending review. She asked why. They wouldn't say.
I smiled for the first time that day. Small. Private.
The first real crack had spread.
And it was only spreading faster.
I started the car. Pulled away.
She could cry. She could panic. She could call her mother. Her lawyer. Her lover.
None of it would stop what was coming.
Because the man she thought was broken?
He wasn't broken anymore.
He was just getting started.