Chapter 12: I Don't Work for Scammers
974 Words
I stayed in a cheap hotel near the bus station.
The room smelled of old smoke and lemon cleaner. The wallpaper peeled near the air conditioner. The bed was hard, and the blanket had a cigarette burn in one corner.
It still felt better than the guest room.
At least here, no one looked at me like I had failed to earn the air I breathed.
I placed my suitcase beside the bed and opened my laptop.
The screen took too long to wake.
While it loaded, my phone buzzed.
Olivia.
For a second, I stared at the name.
Then I answered.
"Did you check into a hotel?" she asked.
No hello.
No are you safe.
"Yes."
"Which one?"
"Why?"
There was silence.
"I just wanted to know."
"You don't need to."
Her breathing changed.
"Ethan, do you have to be this cold?"
I looked around the cheap room.
At the cracked lampshade.
At the thin towel folded on the chair.
At my suitcase, which held the remains of a marriage she had asked me to leave with nothing from.
"Yes," I said.
She swallowed audibly.
"Adrian said he can introduce you to a position if you need one."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The charity.
Cleanly wrapped, poison underneath.
"No."
"You didn't even ask what kind."
"I don't need to."
"Ethan, don't let pride destroy you."
I laughed softly.
"Pride is not what destroyed me."
She went quiet.
Then, in a smaller voice, "He really wants to help."
"No, Olivia. He wants me beneath him."
"That's not true."
"Then ask him why his investment documents don't show the underlying assets clearly. Ask him why the returns are fixed but the risk disclosure is vague. Ask him why the company registration is less than a year old but claims three years of performance history."
Silence.
I could almost see her face tightening.
"You checked?"
"Of course I checked."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
I opened my eyes.
"I did."
She had no answer.
"You called me jealous," I said. "Bitter. Suspicious."
"I..."
"You chose not to listen."
Her voice sharpened, defensive again.
"Adrian explained those things. You don't understand the structure."
I almost smiled.
He had already given her the script.
"Maybe I don't," I said. "But I understand one simple rule. Real money does not need to hide behind pretty words."
"You are judging him because he is successful."
"I am judging him because he looks like a scammer."
"Ethan!"
"And I don't work for scammers."
I ended the call.
My hand stayed around the phone for a long moment.
The screen went dark.
I expected pain.
It came, but less sharply than before.
Maybe the heart learned distance before the body did.
I opened a job site and stared at the postings.
Account manager.
Sales supervisor.
Client strategy lead.
Regional consultant.
Every role asked for energy, passion, loyalty, resilience.
Nobody asked whether the applicant still had anything left inside.
I sent more resumes.
Then I opened the arbitration folder and organized evidence until midnight.
At one-thirty, someone knocked on my door.
Three times.
Slow.
I stood very still.
Cheap hotels had thin doors and worse security.
"Who is it?"
"Room service."
"I didn't order anything."
Silence.
Then a low laugh.
"Smart man."
Adrian.
I opened the door with the chain lock still on.
He stood outside in a dark coat, looking completely wrong in the dim hotel hallway. Too polished. Too calm. Too clean for a place like this.
"What do you want?" I asked.
He glanced at the chain.
"Afraid?"
"Annoyed."
His smile faded a little.
"Olivia is worried about you."
"No, she is worried I might make her feel guilty."
"You should not be so harsh on her. She has been under great pressure."
I stared at him.
"From what? Choosing between my apartment and your fake investment plan?"
His eyes turned cold.
There he was.
The man under the manners.
"You know," he said softly, "I was going to offer you something decent. A consulting role. Enough to let you keep your dignity."
"My dignity is not yours to let me keep."
His jaw tightened.
"You are in no position to be arrogant."
"Then why are you here at one-thirty in the morning?"
That landed.
Adrian's expression stilled.
I leaned closer to the narrow gap.
"If I am finished, why bother?"
He was silent for a second.
Then he smiled again.
"Because desperate men sometimes do desperate things. I wanted to make sure you won't trouble Olivia."
"Trouble her?"
"She is moving on."
"With you?"
"With a better life."
I looked at him for a long moment.
"Adrian, if you cheat her, I will find out."
He laughed.
"You? From this hotel?"
"Yes."
The laugh died.
He stepped closer to the door.
"Let me give you advice, Ethan. Disappear quietly. You already lost. Don't turn yourself into a joke."
I smiled.
"Too late. You came all the way here to warn the joke."
For the first time, anger flashed openly across his face.
He lifted a hand as if to push the door.
The chain held.
I did not move.
After a second, he lowered his hand.
"You will regret this attitude."
"Get in line."
He stared at me.
Then he turned and walked away.
I watched through the gap until he reached the elevator.
Before stepping inside, he looked back.
The polished mask was gone.
Only contempt remained.
The elevator doors closed.
I shut my door and locked it.
Then I sat on the edge of the bed and opened a blank document.
For the first time since leaving the apartment, I was not thinking about Olivia.
I was thinking about Adrian's face when I mentioned the investment documents.
Fear had a smell.
I had smelled it once in Derek's office.
Tonight, I smelled it again.
- Writer
