Chapter 8 - Leonard’s WarningSamuel Reed’s old firm located the sealed letter the next morning.
It could not simply be handed over immediately.
There were procedures.
Identification.
File review.
Confirmation that Leonard’s written instructions authorized early release.
Darius nearly exploded when Camille explained this.
“My dead father wrote me a letter.”
“And your dead father was a lawyer’s client.”
“I’m his son.”
“That does not eliminate professional obligations.”
Darius hated reasonable answers.
They gave anger nowhere to go.
While the firm reviewed the file, Monique asked to meet at a public café.
Darius agreed because Camille had advised him to separate marital conversations from company confrontations whenever possible.
Monique looked exhausted.
No makeup.
Hair pulled back.
Her wedding ring remained on her finger.
Darius noticed and hated himself for noticing.
“I brought something.”
She placed an envelope between them.
Inside was a cashier’s check for twenty-five thousand dollars.
Darius looked at it.
“What is this?”
“Money Denise paid me.”
The café noise seemed to recede.
“For what?”
“She called it design consulting.”
“You’re not a designer.”
“I helped with two apartment model units.”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars’ worth?”
“No.”
Darius stared.
“When?”
“February.”
“After she caught you with Adrian.”
“Yes.”
He pushed the check away.
“Why are you giving this to me?”
“I’m returning it.”
“To me?”
“To the company if it came from the company.”
“Did you think it was hush money?”
“At the time, I told myself it wasn’t.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Monique began twisting her napkin.
“Yes.”
His chest hurt.
“So you cheated on me, blackmailed my mother and got paid.”
“When you say it like that—”
“How would you like me to say it?”
She lowered her eyes.
“No. You’re right.”
He looked through the window.
People crossed the street carrying coffee, living ordinary lives.
“How did you become this person?”
Monique cried silently.
“I don’t know.”
“I do.”
She looked up.
“You kept making small decisions because each one felt easier than admitting the previous one.”
Monique stared.
He realized the sentence applied to Denise too.
Perhaps to himself.
How many times had he accepted Denise’s explanation because challenging her would have been uncomfortable?
Monique pushed the envelope back.
“Take it to Camille.”
“I’ll tell you where to send it after we verify the source.”
She nodded.
“There’s something else.”
Darius almost laughed.
“There is always something else.”
“Denise didn’t just want the refinancing completed.”
“What did she want?”
“She wanted you to sign an amended operating agreement.”
His stomach tightened.
“When?”
“On your birthday.”
“What would it do?”
“I never saw the full document.”
“But?”
“She told Adrian it would keep management control where it belonged.”
Darius’s gaze sharpened.
“You saw a message between my mother and Adrian?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Adrian told me.”
“Why would he know?”
Monique looked ashamed.
“Because Denise hired him.”
Darius froze.
“For what?”
“Riverline.”
“I know that.”
“No. Recently.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“What job?”
“To value two Cole properties.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Darius sat back.
The pieces were beginning to touch.
The affair partner.
The failed investment.
The refinancing.
His mother.
His trust.
“When did your affair start?”
“Eight months ago.”
“When did Denise hire Adrian?”
“Three months ago.”
“So she knew he was sleeping with you and hired him anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I asked her.”
“What did she say?”
“That keeping enemies close was cheaper than creating new ones.”
Darius felt sick.
“Did Adrian threaten her?”
“I think so.”
“With what?”
“The Riverline transaction.”
Darius rubbed his face.
Denise had not merely covered an affair.
She had entered negotiations with the man sleeping with her son’s wife.
“What did he want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
Monique closed her eyes.
“He talked about a brokerage contract. Something big.”
“How big?”
“A sale.”
Darius leaned forward.
“Of what?”
“One of your father’s original apartment buildings.”
His blood went cold.
“Which one?”
“Langston Court.”
Darius stared.
Langston Court was the first major building Leonard had ever purchased.
Forty-eight apartments.
The building where Darius had spent summers sweeping hallways at fourteen.
His father had refused offers for years.
“He wanted to sell Langston?”
“Adrian did.”
“My mother?”
Monique looked down.
“She said after the refinancing, she would consider it.”
Darius’s phone rang.
Camille.
He answered immediately.
“We have authorization for the letter,” she said.
“When?”
“Now.”
Darius stood.
Monique looked at him.
“What happened?”
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He reached for his coat.
“My father just entered the conversation.”
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