Chapter 3 - The Price of Looking Away
Cade backed up two steps, smoothing down the front of his bomber jacket with theatrical care. He was a professional predator; he knew when the odds had inverted. Yet the malice in his gaze didn't diminish; it merely curdled into something colder. ""You bought a dying shell, Castellano. Dunore took the liquid reserves two days ago. All that’s left here is debt, broken elevators, and a receptionist whose family is poison. Check the drawer behind her. Ask her what she’s been stealing.""
""Leave,"" Emmett said. He didn't blink.
Cade held up both hands in mock surrender, flashed his yellowed teeth at Adeline, and backed toward the revolving doors. ""Have a nice Thanksgiving, Addie. Say hello to Grandma for me. Let’s see how warm her room stays when Monday comes."" The heavy glass door groaned as he shoved it open, letting in a blast of freezing wind before swinging shut with a dull shudder.
The lobby fell into an unbearable quiet. The only sound was the distant hum of the building's central heating unit and Adeline’s ragged breathing. She gripped the edge of the mahogany counter, her knees trembling so violently that she had to lean her entire upper body forward to keep from collapsing onto the floor mats.
Hershel Otwe stood frozen by the service elevator, his mop still dripping cloudy water onto the slate floor. Emmett turned his head slowly, his dark eyes fixing upon the old custodian. The old man withered under the gaze, his shoulders shrinking inward.
""Hershel,"" Emmett said.
""Yes, sir,"" Hershel stammered, his knuckles clutching the broom handle like a lifeline. ""I was... I was just heading down to the basement to empty the bucket, sir. I didn't mean no trouble.""
""You’ve been here twenty-two years,"" Emmett said, his voice flat, devoid of anger, which made it far more terrifying. ""You were here when Arthur Vance was the chief accountant. You knew him. You knew his daughter.""
Hershel looked down at his waterlogged work boots, tears springing into his rheumy eyes. ""I got seven months left until my full pension, Mr. Castellano. Just seven months. If Dunore fired me, my wife’s medical debt would take our house. I couldn't... I have to look out for my own. God help me, I have to.""
""Go home, Hershel,"" Emmett said quietly. ""Take tomorrow off. You will receive your pension, fully vested, whether this building stands or burns. But if you ever turn your back on a woman begging for air under my roof again, you will find out that some debts cannot be paid with money. Do you understand me?""
Hershel stared at Emmett, his mouth working wordlessly before he nodded vigorously, wiping his nose with his rough sleeve. ""Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. God bless you."" He abandoned the yellow mop bucket where it sat and scuffled toward the rear exit as if the devil himself were trailing his footsteps.
Emmett turned back to the reception desk. Adeline was trying desperately to re-button her collar with trembling hands, but her fingers refused to obey. A fierce, stubborn pride burned behind her tears; she refused to look up at him, refusing to let this new master see her shatter completely.
""Sit down, Miss Vance,"" Emmett said, his tone softening only a fraction.
""I can finish my shift,"" she rasped, her voice thick and broken. ""I volunteered for the overtime. I need the hours on the timecard.""
""Your shift is over,"" Emmett replied. He reached across the counter, his large, calloused hand hovering near the desk drawer. ""Open it.""
Adeline’s heart seized. She pulled her chin up, glaring at him through bloodshot eyes. ""Fire me if you want. Call the police. But I’m not giving you that card. My father didn't steal that money. Sterling Dunore wired it through dummy shell companies in Panama, and he let my dad rot in a cage so the board wouldn't ask questions. That memory card has the original transfer logs with Dunore's private encryption key. It’s the only thing that proves my father wasn't a thief.""
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Emmett didn't demand the drawer open. Instead, he pulled a silver keycard from his coat pocket and tossed it onto her blotter. It was the master key for the sixth-floor executive archives—the one card in the entire city that could unlock Dunore’s private safe.
""I didn't buy this building to collect rent, Miss Vance,"" Emmett said, leaning forward so only she could hear. ""I bought it to take Dunore apart piece by piece. And I need Arthur Vance’s daughter to help me do it.""
