I agreed to meet Tiffany in a dimly lit, forgotten diner tucked away off Jerome Avenue—the specific kind of establishment where the patrons stared at their coffee and nobody cared who you used to be.
She walked through the dingy glass doors wearing oversized, dark sunglasses and a heavy trench coat, looking exactly like prey. But it was her hands that betrayed her true state. They were shaking uncontrollably—clasping, unclasping, tearing at a paper napkin—as if her nervous system couldn’t decide whether to flee the city or finally confess her sins.
“I didn’t know,” she blurted out before I had even settled into the cracked vinyl booth. “I swear to God, Elena, not the way he actually planned it. Not the… the doctored photos.”
I kept my voice terrifyingly calm, even though it felt as if my chest cavity was entirely filled with jagged, broken glass. “Then I suggest you tell me exactly what you do know.”
Tiffany swallowed hard and slid her sleek smartphone across the sticky Formica table. The screen displayed a hidden, encrypted folder. It was packed with audio files, financial screenshots, and internal corporate memos.
“He had his private security team digitally manufacture those pictures,” Tiffany whispered, glancing nervously toward the door. “He told me it was ‘necessary corporate optics.’ He needed you completely out of the picture, fast. Before the SEC initiated the IPO audits. Before anyone with a forensic accounting degree looked too closely at exactly how you funded the early software builds.”
My stomach aggressively tightened. My mother’s life insurance policy. The massive, six-figure check I had handed David with a naive kiss and a sacred promise, deeply believing we were constructing a shared empire together.
Tiffany’s eyes filled with hot, terrified tears. “He told me I was unique. That I was special. He swore he’d protect me from the fallout. But yesterday… I overheard him in a closed-door meeting with his CFO. They were discussing the necessity of a ‘fall person’ if the numbers didn’t align.” She took a ragged breath. “They meant me.”
I stared at the extensive list of audio files, fighting a sudden wave of intense nausea. “Why are you bringing this arsenal to me?”
