Chapter 12: Checkmate
1238 Words
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Uma arguing with Lor in my tiny apartment.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Uma snapped. “We just blackmailed a man who probably has a dozen ways to make us disappear. He’s not just going to let this go.”
Lor shot back, “And what was your brilliant plan? Hand over the drive and hope he gives Benny a friendly pat on the back?”
I groaned, sitting up. “Ladies, please. Can we start the day without plotting each other’s murder?”
They both turned on me at once.
Lor: “This is your fault.”
Uma: “This is definitely your fault.”
I rubbed my temples. “Yeah, yeah. But let’s focus on the fact that we’re alive, shall we?”
That quieted them.
For now.
But Uma had a point. The man in the suit—who I now knew as Malcolm Sloane, a corporate fixer with ties to every corrupt politician in the state—wasn’t the type to forgive and forget.
And neither was Dan.
I got the call at noon.
An unknown number. I answered.
A familiar voice said, “We need to talk.”
Dan.
My grip tightened on the phone. “After what you pulled? I should break your nose.”
A sigh. “Benny, I didn’t do what you think I did.”
I scoffed. “Oh, so you didn’t cheat on Lor with Uma?”
“Of course not,” Dan snapped. “I barely even like Uma.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then, Uma (who was listening in) gasped, “Excuse me?”
Dan ignored her. “Meet me at The Hollow at 6. I’ll explain everything.”
I hesitated.
This felt like a trap.
But something in Dan’s voice…
He sounded desperate.
And if there was one thing I knew about Dan, it was that desperation made people very dangerous.
The Hollow was an old jazz bar, the kind that smelled like whiskey and broken dreams.
Dan was already there, nursing a scotch. He looked like hell. Unshaven, dark circles under his eyes. This was a man losing control.
I sat across from him. “Start talking.”
Dan ran a hand through his hair. “I made a mistake.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Only one?”
He shot me a glare, then sighed. “I got involved with Sloane. A few bad investments, some bad debts… he bailed me out.”
I frowned. “Let me guess. That ‘bailout’ came with strings?”
Dan nodded. “Big ones.” He leaned in. “He made me fire Lor.”
I went still.
Dan continued, “I didn’t want to, Benny. But he owns me.”
My mind was racing. “And Uma?”
Dan’s jaw clenched. “She was never part of this. He planted her in my office to keep me in line.”
My stomach twisted. “So she was spying on you?”
Dan nodded.
And suddenly, everything made sense.
Why Lor got fired. Why Uma suddenly showed up. Why Dan had been spiraling.
It had never been about cheating.
It was about control.
Back at my apartment, I told Lor and Uma everything Dan had said.
Uma, for once, looked genuinely stunned. “Wait, wait—you’re telling me I was being used? That I was a pawn?”
Lor crossed her arms. “I’d believe that. You’re not exactly known for thinking five steps ahead, Uma.”
Uma shot her a glare. “You think Dan’s innocent now? That he didn’t enjoy playing along?”
I stepped between them. “Focus. This isn’t about Dan anymore. It’s about Sloane. He’s the one pulling the strings.”
Lor’s expression darkened. “And he forced Dan to fire me?”
I nodded.
Her jaw tightened. “Then we take him down.”
Uma let out a short laugh. “Yeah, great idea. Do you know who Malcolm Sloane is? He’s not just some businessman, Lor. He’s the guy people go to when they want problems to disappear.”
Lor leaned in, her eyes burning with something I hadn’t seen in a long time. Determination. “Then we make him disappear first.”
Uma and I exchanged a look.
She wasn’t joking.
We needed more dirt on Sloane. The flash drive we had was good, but not enough to take down a man like him.
We needed something bigger.
Which is how, at exactly 2 a.m., I found myself sneaking into Dan’s office with Lor.
“You sure you can open this?” I whispered as she worked on the lock to Dan’s private files.
Lor smirked. “Who do you think taught Dan how to pick locks?”
A soft click, and the drawer slid open.
Inside were neatly organized files. Financial records. Emails. And then—
Lor pulled out a black folder marked M.S.
“Bingo.”
We flipped through it, and what we found made my blood run cold.
Sloane wasn’t just blackmailing Dan.
He was blackmailing dozens of executives.
Illegal trades. Tax fraud. Some had debts to him. Others owed him favors. He was running an entire empire behind the scenes.
And then, at the very back—
Lor gasped. “What the hell is this?”
A contract.
A legal agreement.
It had Dan’s signature on it. And in bold, black ink at the top:
TRANSFER OF OWNERSHIP – DANIEL CARTER TO MALCOLM SLOANE
Lor’s hands were shaking. “Sloane owns Dan’s company?”
I exhaled sharply. “Not yet. But if Dan doesn’t pay him back soon—”
“He loses everything,” Lor finished.
And then the lights in the office flickered on.
A deep voice spoke from behind us.
“Well, well. I was wondering when you’d show up.”
We turned.
Malcolm Sloane stood in the doorway.
Smiling.
Sloane stepped forward, adjusting his cufflinks like he hadn’t just caught us red-handed.
“Do you two have any idea what you’ve just walked into?” he asked casually.
I took a step in front of Lor. “Yeah. A whole lot of corruption.”
He smirked. “Oh, Benny. You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Lor’s voice was ice. “You ruined Dan’s life.”
Sloane tilted his head. “Did I? Or did he ruin it himself? I simply… provided the opportunity.”
I clenched my fists. “And if we take this to the police?”
Sloane laughed. Actually laughed.
“Please. You think the NYPD hasn’t seen worse? Half of them work for me.”
Lor’s grip on the folder tightened. “Then we take it to someone else.”
Sloane’s expression darkened. “Oh, I do hope you try.”
He snapped his fingers.
And suddenly, two men stepped into the office behind him. Large. Built like bouncers.
Lor and I exchanged a look.
This just became a fight.
Sloane adjusted his tie. “Now. How would you like to leave here? Quietly—or in pieces?”
I swallowed.
We were outnumbered.
But we weren’t out of options.
Lor smirked. “You should know something about me, Sloane.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She tossed the flash drive at his feet.
“That’s not the only copy.”
Sloane’s smirk faded.
I grinned. “Checkmate.”
- Writer
