Amelia’s POV
Nathan steers me into a restaurant three blocks away. The kind of establishment I used to frequent as Daniel’s wife and can’t afford to even look at now.
“Table for two,” Nathan tells the hostess. “Somewhere private.”
She seats us in a corner booth, far from windows and other diners. Nathan orders coffee without asking if I want any, then fixes me with the kind of direct, patient gaze that probably makes opposing counsel crumble in depositions.
“Start from the beginning.”
I hesitated at first, then started.“They fired me.” The words still feel surreal. “Called it restructuring, but that’s corporate bullshit for ‘you didn’t play ball.’”
“What did they want you to do?”
“He wanted intelligence. Details about Daniel’s strategy, weaknesses in the deal structure, anything the
