The Wire
Marcus's hand closed around my throat, pressing me against the penthouse window forty stories above the street.
"Wait." The word scraped out. "I'll do it."
His fingers loosened. Not much. Just enough that I could breathe without my vision spotting.
"Say it again." His breath smelled like the scotch he'd been drinking while his brother lay drugged upstairs. "Clearly."
"I'll take Iris and leave." My pulse hammered against his palm. "I'll tell the judge it was a misunderstanding. Dominic drops the embezzlement accusations."
"And?"
The city lights blurred below us. Forty stories. The glass was cold against my shoulders, and I thought about how easy it would be for him to just—
"And you don't send the video." I forced myself to meet his eyes. "You don't destroy him."
Marcus studied my face for another three seconds. Then he released me and stepped back, smoothing his tie like he hadn't just been choking his brother's girlfriend against a window.
"Smart girl." He walked to the bar cart and poured himself another scotch. Two fingers. Neat. Like we were having a civilized conversation. "I knew you'd see reason."
I rubbed my throat. My fingers came away shaking.
"Iris," I said. "Where is she?"
"Guest room. Second door on the left." He took a sip. "She's been watching cartoons. I'm not a monster, Sloane."
Yeah, no. Just a murderer and a blackmailer. But I kept my mouth shut and headed for the hallway.
"Sloane."
I stopped. Didn't turn around.
"If you try anything—if you even think about going to the police—I'll know." His voice was soft. Reasonable. The same tone he probably used in board meetings. "And that video goes out immediately. Automated system. I don't even have to press send."
"I get it."
"Do you?" Ice clinked against glass. "Because Dominic thought he could outmaneuver me too. Look where that got him."
I found Iris curled up on a leather couch that probably cost more than my car, her thumb in her mouth, eyes glazed with exhaustion. The TV was playing some animated movie about talking animals, but she wasn't watching it.
"Hey, bug." I sat down next to her. "Ready to go home?"
She looked at me. Then past me, toward the doorway where Marcus stood watching.
"Is Daddy okay?"
My throat closed up. "Yeah. He's just... he's sleeping. He'll be okay."
"Uncle Marcus said Daddy's sick." Her voice was so small. "He said Daddy might have to go away for a while."
I pulled her into my lap. She was too big for it really, all sharp elbows and knobby knees, but she curled into me anyway.
"Your dad's not going anywhere," I said into her hair. "I promise."
Marcus cleared his throat from the doorway. "We should get going. The judge will want to hear from you tonight."
I stood, lifting Iris with me. She wrapped her legs around my waist and buried her face in my neck.
"Actually," I said, "there's something you should know first."
Marcus's expression didn't change. "Oh?"
"I'm wearing a wire." I shifted Iris to my hip and pulled my collar down with my free hand. The small recording device was taped just below my collarbone, right where Dominic's investigator had placed it two hours ago when I'd called him from the bathroom. "Everything you just said? About Victoria's murder? About the blackmail? It's all recorded."
For exactly two seconds, Marcus went completely still.
Then he moved.
He crossed the room faster than I expected, grabbed my arm, and yanked me forward. Iris screamed. I tried to twist away but he was stronger, and his fingers found the wire and ripped it off my skin, taking a layer of flesh with it.
"You stupid—" He threw the device on the floor and crushed it under his heel. Once. Twice. Three times until it was just plastic shards and broken circuits. "You actually thought that would work?"
I backed toward the door, Iris clinging to me like a koala. "It already worked."
"What?"
"The wire wasn't transmitting." My heart was trying to punch through my ribs but I kept my voice steady. "It was just recording. But the penthouse security system? The one Dominic had upgraded last month after someone tried to break into his office?" I smiled. It felt wrong on my face, too sharp, too much like something Marcus would do. "That's been recording everything. Video and audio. And it's been transmitting to Dominic's investigator the entire time you've been confessing to murder."
Marcus's face went white. Then red. Then something worse—blank and cold and calculating.
"You're bluffing."
"Am I?" I pulled out my phone with my free hand. Showed him the screen. The investigator had sent me a text three minutes ago: Got everything. Police are on their way.
Marcus stared at the message. His jaw worked like he was chewing glass.
"You have no idea what you've done," he said finally.
"Yeah, no, I'm pretty sure I do." Iris's fingers were digging into my shoulders hard enough to bruise. "I just got a confession that you murdered your sister-in-law and tried to frame your brother for it. That tracks as a win."
"A win." He laughed. Actually laughed. "You think this is a win?"
He walked to the window—the same window he'd pressed me against—and looked out at the city. His reflection in the glass was distorted, stretched thin by the angle.
"Ashford Industries employs three thousand people," he said. "Directly. Another ten thousand through subsidiaries and contractors. When I go down—and I will go down now, thanks to you—the company goes with me."
"That's not—"
"I've been holding it together for two years." He turned around. His face was calm now. Too calm. "Since Victoria died. Since Dominic inherited her shares and then proceeded to ignore every board meeting, every quarterly report, every decision that needed to be made. Do you know who's been running the company? Who's been keeping those three thousand people employed?"
I didn't answer.
"Me." He tapped his chest. "I've been covering for my brother's grief-induced incompetence while he played house with you and pretended the real world didn't exist. And yes, I took some money. I earned it. But I also kept the ship from sinking."
"By murdering your sister-in-law."
"Victoria was going to destroy everything." His voice dropped. Got quieter. Dangerous. "She found some accounting irregularities and instead of coming to me—instead of handling it like family—she was going to take it to the board. To the press. She was going to burn down everything our father built over some missing money that I fully intended to pay back."
"So you killed her."
"I made a choice." He said it like he was discussing the weather. "Her or the company. Her or three thousand jobs. Her or the Ashford legacy. It wasn't personal."
Iris whimpered against my neck. I adjusted my grip on her, my arms starting to shake from her weight.
"And now you've made a choice too," Marcus continued. "You've chosen to expose me. Which means you've chosen to destroy the company. To put three thousand people out of work. To leave Iris with nothing—no trust fund, no inheritance, no future. Because when this goes public, when the lawsuits start, when the board realizes what I've done?" He spread his hands. "The company won't survive it. The stock will crash. The assets will be liquidated to pay settlements. And Dominic's daughter will grow up poor, just like you did."
My stomach dropped.
"You're lying."
"Am I?" He pulled out his phone. "I have bankruptcy protocols in place. Contingency plans. If I'm going down, I'm taking everything with me. One call and I trigger the collapse. Every employee loses everything. Every shareholder. Every pension fund that invested in us." His thumb hovered over the screen. "Is that what you want? Is your revenge worth that?"
I couldn't breathe. Iris was too heavy. The room was too small. Marcus was too close and too far away at the same time.
"Sloane." His voice was almost gentle now. "You can still fix this. Tell the investigator it was a misunderstanding. Tell him the security footage is corrupted. Tell him anything. But stop this before it's too late."
"I can't—"
"You can." He took a step toward me. "You're the only one who can. Dominic's upstairs, drugged. He doesn't know what you've done yet. The investigator will listen to you. You can still save this."
My phone buzzed. I looked down.
Police ETA 3 minutes.
"Three minutes," Marcus said, reading over my shoulder. "That's how long you have to decide. Justice or mercy. Revenge or responsibility. What's it going to be?"
I set Iris down on the couch. She grabbed for me but I peeled her fingers off gently.
"Stay here, bug. Just for a minute."
"But—"
"Please."
She pulled her knees to her chest and stuck her thumb back in her mouth. Seven years old and sucking her thumb because the adults in her life couldn't stop destroying each other.
I walked to where Marcus stood by the window. Close enough that I could see the sweat on his upper lip despite his calm voice. Close enough that I could smell the scotch and expensive cologne and something underneath that smelled like fear.
"You're right," I said.
His shoulders relaxed. Just a fraction.
"I'm glad you—"
"You're right that exposing you will hurt people." I kept my voice low. Steady. "Innocent people who don't deserve to lose their jobs because you're a murdering piece of shit. But here's the thing you don't understand."
I pulled out my phone again. Opened my texts. Found the message from Dominic's investigator that I'd received an hour ago, before Marcus had even arrived at the penthouse.
"Dominic knew you'd try this," I said. "The bankruptcy threat. The collateral damage. He's been planning for it for months."
Marcus's face went slack.
"What?"
"He's been quietly moving assets. Restructuring debt. Setting up a separate entity that holds the core business operations—the parts that actually employ people." I showed him the message. "If you trigger the bankruptcy protocols, you'll destroy the holding company. The shell. But the actual business? The jobs? They're protected."
"That's not possible." But his voice cracked on the last word. "I would have known. I would have seen it in the reports."
"Yeah, no, you wouldn't have." I smiled. It felt better this time. More real. "Because you've been too busy embezzling and covering up murder to actually pay attention to what your brother was doing. Turns out he's not as incompetent as you thought."
Marcus grabbed my arm. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave marks.
"You're lying."
"Am I?" I yanked my arm free. "Call your bluff. Trigger the bankruptcy. See what happens."
He stared at me. His phone was still in his hand, thumb still hovering over the screen.
"You don't know what you're doing," he said. "You're a bartender from Southie who got lucky enough to fuck a billionaire. You don't understand how this world works."
"Maybe not." I shrugged. "But I understand that you're going to prison. And I understand that Iris is going to grow up knowing her uncle murdered her mother. And I understand that Dominic is going to wake up in about twenty minutes and find out that I saved his ass while he was unconscious."
"Sloane—"
"And I understand," I continued, talking over him because fuck him and his smooth voice and his reasonable tone, "that you're scared. Because for the first time in your life, you can't talk your way out of something. You can't manipulate or threaten or buy your way to safety. You're just fucked."
Sirens. Faint but getting louder. Coming up the street toward the building.
Marcus looked at his phone. Then at me. Then at Iris, still curled up on the couch with her thumb in her mouth.
"One call," he said quietly. "I trigger the bankruptcy protocols. Maybe Dominic protected some of the assets. Maybe he didn't. Maybe he was as smart as you think. Maybe he wasn't. But are you willing to bet three thousand jobs on it? Are you willing to risk that you might be wrong?"
The sirens were louder now. Close enough that I could hear individual wails separating from the chorus.
"Because if you're wrong," Marcus continued, "if Dominic didn't protect everything, if there are gaps in his planning, if I can still do damage—then you've destroyed all those lives for nothing. You've made Iris poor for nothing. You've ruined the company for nothing." His finger moved closer to the screen. "Is your revenge worth that risk?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. My throat was dry and my hands were shaking and I didn't know—I didn't fucking know—
"Sloane." Iris's voice, small and scared from the couch. "I want Daddy."
Marcus smiled. "Last chance. Tell me to stop and I'll delete everything. The bankruptcy protocols. The contingency plans. All of it. We can still fix this."
The sirens were right outside now. I could see the red and blue lights reflecting off the windows of the building across the street.
"All you have to do," Marcus said, "is say the word."
His finger hovered over the screen, and I realized with a sick twist in my stomach that I had no idea if Dominic had actually protected the company or if I'd just been bluffing, hoping, praying that the man I loved was smarter than his brother.
The elevator dinged in the hallway. Footsteps. Multiple sets. Heavy boots on marble.
"Now or never," Marcus said.
His finger started to move toward the screen—