Chapter 10 - Daniel’s Confession
Daniel’s sworn interview lasted nine hours.
He cried only once.
Not while discussing Chicago.
Not Atlanta.
Not Christopher’s insults.
He cried when Marisol asked why he had stayed.
“Money,” Daniel said.
No one moved.
He wiped his eyes.
“People want complicated explanations. Fear. Loyalty. Manipulation. And those were real. But I made a lot of money.”
“How much?”
“My final annual compensation from Christopher’s company was $1.4 million.”
Marisol nodded.
“Continue.”
“I told myself I was moderating him. That if I left, somebody worse would replace me.”
“Did you believe that?”
“Sometimes.”
“And other times?”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“I liked being important.”
He described how scandals were handled.
First, isolate witnesses.
Second, define ambiguity.
Third, offer money.
Fourth, create a version of events everyone could repeat without technically lying.
“You make truth expensive,” he said. “Eventually people choose peace.”
The investigators asked about Northstar.
Daniel’s face tightened.
“Preston Vale.”
“You hired him before?”
“Yes.”
“For Darius Bell?”
“Yes.”
“Who approved the strategy?”
“I did.”
“Did Meridian know?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Not initially.”
“Eventually?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Daniel named Jonathan Mercer, Meridian’s former chief operating officer.
Mercer had retired two years earlier.
“Anyone else?”
Daniel looked toward the camera recording the interview.
“Victoria may have received sanitized summaries.”
“May have?”
“I never discussed Darius with her directly.”
“Who did?”
“Mercer.”
Daniel continued.
“Christopher believed Meridian knew everything because Mercer told him the studio would protect the franchise.”
That explained Christopher’s comment.
But it created another problem.
Did Victoria deliberately avoid asking questions?
Or had Mercer concealed information from her?
Marisol would decide later.
Daniel’s next disclosure was worse.
After Malik’s video went viral, Christopher called Daniel at 1:03 a.m.
“He said, ‘Find something on the mother.’”
Nia’s attorney would later read that sentence three times.
Daniel had refused.
Not morally.
Strategically.
“I told him attacking her would backfire.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Then make somebody else do it.’”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“I believe Christopher contacted Preston directly.”
Marisol leaned forward.
“Evidence?”
Daniel produced a screenshot of a text Christopher sent the next morning.
Vale’s handling digital. Focus on studio.
Marisol marked it as an exhibit.
By evening, Meridian’s board had enough evidence to expand the review into retaliation against the Johnson family.
Still, the studio did not fire Christopher.
Lawyers insisted on process.
The sequel remained officially “under evaluation.”
Online, people became impatient.
Some accused Meridian of protecting him.
Others accused the studio of sacrificing him to public pressure.
Nia ignored both sides.
Malik’s life was smaller now.
Home.
Therapy.
School assignments.
Basketball with Camille’s husband.
Nia began limiting all news.
Then Christopher did something nobody expected.
He requested a private meeting.
No cameras.
No press.
Through lawyers.
Rachel brought the request to Nia.
“He says he wants to apologize directly.”
Nia stared.
“Why?”
“He says because he owes Malik one.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“After offering money?”
“Yes.”
“After lying about him?”
“Yes.”
Nia laughed.
“No.”
Rachel nodded.
“I expected that.”
“Then why tell me?”
“Because it’s your decision.”
Nia looked toward Malik’s bedroom.
“Does Malik know?”
“No.”
“Good.”
That night she changed her mind.
Not because she trusted Christopher.
Because Malik heard Camille discussing it.
“Why doesn’t he apologize to me?”
Nia sat down.
“He asked to.”
Malik looked surprised.
“You said no?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t trust why he wants to.”
Malik considered this.
“What if I want to hear it?”
Nia’s protective instinct screamed no.
But Aaron’s words from therapy returned to her.
Protecting Malik could not mean controlling every part of what happened to him.
“What would you want to say?”
Malik shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to meet him.”
“I know.”
“Even if you agree today, you can change your mind.”
“I know.”
Malik looked down.
Then he said, “I want to ask him why.”
Two days later, arrangements were made.
A neutral law office.
Rachel present.
Nia present.
Christopher’s attorney present.
No phones.
No recording unless everyone consented.
Christopher arrived early.
For once, no tuxedo.
No cameras.
He wore a gray sweater and dark trousers.
When Malik entered, Christopher stood.
Malik stopped several feet away.
The room became completely silent.
Christopher looked smaller without premiere lighting.
He opened his mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
Malik stared.
Christopher continued.
“What I did was wrong.”
Nia watched his face.
No smile.
No performance she could easily identify.
Then Malik asked the question he had carried for ten days.
“Did you push me because I’m Black?”
Christopher froze.
Martin Kessler lowered his eyes.
Rachel did not move.
May you like
![92 The Girl They Called Broke Was a Billionaire’s Daughter—But Her Father’s Arrival Exposed a Secret Powerful People Had Buried for Years]](https://cdn.treeiq.biz/site_590/2026/11/clone-0-0915d882-53d7-4d17-b43a-a010ca1a1068.webp)
Christopher looked at Malik.
And for the first time since the scandal began, there was no publicist available to manufacture a sentence for him.
