Crossroads
860 Words
Bruce didn’t waste time.
The moment he saw the message, he knew he had two options—wait and hope he wasn’t the target, or act before whoever was coming for him made their final move.
Waiting wasn’t an option.
He dialed Beth first.
Voicemail.
He clenched his jaw and sent a short text.
Call me. Now.
Nothing.
Damn it, Beth.
Something was spooking her. If she was panicking, she might do something stupid. And if she was compromised—
No. He wouldn’t let it get that far.
Next, he made another call. Not to his usual lawyer, but to someone off the books. A fixer who handled situations that couldn’t go through legal channels.
The voice on the other end answered on the second ring. “Didn’t expect to hear from you, Clark.”
“I need something handled.” Bruce’s tone was clipped. “Quietly.”
A pause. Then, “How bad?”
Bruce exhaled sharply. “Bad enough.”
“I’ll look into it. You’ll hear from me soon.”
The line went dead.
Bruce set his phone down, inhaling deeply. He still had a chance. He just needed to get ahead of this before—
A knock at his office door.
He straightened, composing himself as Emilia stepped inside.
She was calm. Too calm.
Bruce forced a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Emilia tilted her head, studying him like a predator sizing up its prey. Then she took a seat across from him, crossing her legs.
“I thought we should talk.”
His stomach twisted.
She knew.
#
Beth sat in her car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white.
She had driven aimlessly for nearly an hour, her mind racing. Every sign pointed to one thing—Bruce’s plan was falling apart.
And if he went down, she wasn’t going with him.
Her phone sat in the passenger seat, the screen lit up with Bruce’s last message.
Call me. Now.
She could call him. She could play dumb, pretend she didn’t know anything, convince him to fix it.
But the envelope under her door said otherwise.
Someone knew. Someone powerful enough to get proof. And whoever that was, they weren’t bluffing.
She wasn’t about to wait and find out what happened to people who ignored warnings like that.
With shaky hands, she unlocked her phone. She scrolled past Bruce’s name and found another number—one she had never called before, but had memorized just in case.
She hesitated.
Then, before she could lose her nerve, she pressed dial.
The line rang twice before a calm, collected voice answered.
“Beth.”
A chill ran down her spine. Emilia.
Beth swallowed hard. “We need to talk.”
A brief pause. Then, smooth as ever, Emilia replied:
“I was expecting your call.”
#
Bruce leaned back in his chair, masking his unease with a practiced smirk. “You said we should talk. That usually means you want something.”
Emilia didn’t return the smile. She simply studied him, her gaze unreadable. “You tell me, Bruce. Should I want something?”
His fingers tapped against the desk. “That depends.”
“On?”
“Whether this is a business discussion,” he said smoothly, “or something else.”
A slow, calculated smile touched Emilia’s lips. “Oh, it’s definitely business.” She set a folder on his desk, pushing it toward him. “I assume you’ve been keeping up with the firm’s latest audit?”
Bruce’s stomach tightened, but he didn’t let it show. He flipped open the folder.
Financial statements. Internal reports. A list of flagged transactions.
Too much.
His pulse kicked up, but his voice remained even. “Routine reviews, aren’t they?”
Emilia’s gaze didn’t waver. “Of course. Just like the offshore accounts someone forgot to cover properly. And the shell companies funneling money out.”
Bruce’s grip on the folder tightened.
Emilia leaned in slightly, her voice softer—dangerous. “You always did get greedy.”
His smirk faltered. “That’s a strong accusation.”
“Is it?” She tilted her head. “Funny thing, though. Someone has been very helpful in connecting the dots.”
Bruce kept his expression neutral, but inside, alarms blared.
She couldn’t mean—
A faint vibration sounded from her phone. Emilia glanced at the screen, then tapped out a quick response before looking back at him.
Bruce caught the smallest shift in her expression. A glint of satisfaction.
A cold sensation crept up his spine.
Beth.
His fingers itched for his phone, but he forced himself to stay still. If he checked now, Emilia would see right through him.
Instead, he leaned forward, forcing an easy tone. “You’ve always been dramatic, Emilia. Maybe you should just tell me what you want.”
She let the silence stretch just long enough to make him sweat. Then, with a slow, deliberate smile, she said:
“I already have everything I want.”
Bruce’s heart pounded.
Because for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he had any moves left.
#
- Writer
