.
---
*Monday, 9:12 PM. The Shard. Penthouse Bar.*
I shouldn’t have met her.
But she had my number.
Rose Hale.
Red dress. Smelled like money and bad decisions.
She slid a glass to me. Whiskey. Neat.
“Your sister’s in over her head.”
I didn’t drink.
“What do you want?”
She smiled. Not nice.
“I want Kelvin to lose.”
“Join the club.” I laughed. Bitter. “I’ve been losing since 2023.”
Rose leaned in.
“£200,000 clears a lot of hands, Michael. But it doesn’t clear guilt.”
My glass cracked in my hand.
She knew.
“How—”
“Kelvin keeps receipts on everyone.” She pulled out a folder. “Including you.”
*CONTRACT M. HALE. Clause 2: Emotional manipulation.*
My name. My signature.
2 years ago. When the loan sharks had knives at my door.
I signed because I was scared.
“I didn’t know it was Jenna,” I lied.
“Yes, you did.” Rose tapped the paper. “Clause 3. `Subject must be compelled into 1-year marriage.` That’s her name. Hale.”
I looked away.
London lights below.
“I thought I was protecting her.” My voice was low. “He said he’d keep her alive. If I made her sign.”
“And did you?”
The gun. Empty. Tears.
“Yes.”
Rose didn’t look disgusted. She looked... pleased.
“Good boy.”
I flinched.
“Don’t.”
“Or what? You’ll tell Jenna?” She sipped her drink. “She already knows. She saw the transfer. 14.03.2023.”
My blood went cold.
“The day before Dad’s funeral.”
Rose nodded.
“He paid you before he buried your father.”
I stood.
“Sit down.”
“I don’t—”
“SIT.”
I sat.
“Michael,” she said. Softer now. “You think Kelvin is the only monster? He killed your dad. Jenna knows. And she’s still in his bed. Metaphorically.”
“She’s not—”
“She will be.” Rose’s eyes were sharp. “Men like him don’t marry women they don’t want to break.”
The whiskey burned my throat when I finally drank.
“What do you want from me?”
“Help me burn him.” She slid a USB across the table. “This has his offshore accounts. His real board votes. His IT guy’s name.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the only one he trusts.” She smiled. “And because you hate yourself more than you hate him.”
She was right.
I hated the mirror.
“Jenna would never—”
“Jenna’s playing house with her father’s killer.” Rose stood. “You can save her. Or you can watch him destroy her like he did me.”
She left the USB.
And her card.
*ROSE HALE. CONSULTING.*
I stared at it for 5 minutes.
My phone buzzed.
*Jenna: `Michael. Are you okay?`*
I didn’t answer.
Because I wasn’t.
I picked up the USB.
Then I threw it in the trash.
Then I pulled it back out.
Debt. Guilt. A sister who thinks I’m dead.
And a woman who wants to use me to kill the man who owns me.
I pocketed it.
“God help me,” I whispered.
---