Chapter 7: What Daniel Did Next
He called Marcus that afternoon.
Marcus was in a meeting with Fitch and the firm's financial forensics specialist, a thin, meticulous woman named Dr.
Adaeze Obi who had been going through Daniel's account authorizations for three hours and had stopped twice to write down single numbers with the careful stillness of someone confirming a thing they had already suspected.
Marcus's phone lit up on the table.
Daniel's name.
"Take it," Fitch said.
"On speaker."
Marcus looked at Dr.
Obi.
She nodded once without looking up from the spreadsheet.
He accepted the call.
"I want to talk," Daniel said immediately.
No greeting.
The smoothness was back, but thinner now.
"Just the two of us.
Not Fitch.
Not her."
"You're already on speaker with Fitch," Marcus said.
"And Dr.
Obi from Meridian's forensic division."
A pause.
"Then I want to make an offer," Daniel said.
"I'll return the forty thousand.
With interest.
I'll sign a repayment agreement this week — whatever Fitch drafts, I'll sign it without changes.
And in exchange, this stays in the family.
No filing.
No investigation."
Dr.
Obi wrote something on her notepad and turned it to face Fitch.
Fitch read it.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Daniel," Marcus said, "the forensic review has been running for three hours.
We're not looking at forty thousand dollars anymore."
Silence.
"How much are we looking at?" Daniel said finally.
"We're still counting," Fitch said.
"But the current figure is significantly larger than forty thousand."
Another silence, longer this time.
When Daniel spoke again, the last layer of composure was gone.
"Marcus.
Listen to me.
I made mistakes.
I made choices that I —" He stopped.
Started again.
"You were falling apart.
After Mom d*ed and then Emma left — or I thought she left — you couldn't function.
Someone had to hold the company together.
Someone had to make decisions.
I was trying —"
"You forged my signature," Marcus said.
"I was protecting the company."
"You wired money to a ghost account."
"I was protecting the company." His voice rose.
Just once.
Then he brought it back down.
"Everything I ever did was to keep this family standing.
You were drowning.
I kept you from drowning.
And now you're sitting in that office with a woman you've known for two days and a lawyer and a forensic accountant, and you're treating me like a stranger."
"You told her I was d*ad," Marcus said.
The line went quiet.
"She would have stayed," Daniel said.
And for the first time, his voice had something real in it.
Not the smooth performance.
Not the calculated warmth.
Something that sounded almost like the truth.
"She would have stayed and eventually she would have seen everything I was doing.
She was sharp.
She was always watching.
And you would have chosen her over me.
You always would have chosen her over me."
Marcus closed his eyes briefly.
"So you chose for me," he said.
No answer.
"You chose for me," Marcus said again.
"You decided what I was allowed to have and what I wasn't.
You took five years from Luca.
Five years of a mother.
Because you decided."
"I was trying to protect —"
"You were trying to protect yourself." Marcus's voice was steady.
Even.
The flatness of it was worse than anger.
"I'll see you in court, Daniel."
He ended the call.
The room was very quiet.
Dr.
Obi turned her notepad back around and continued writing.
Fitch closed his folder and looked at Marcus.
"Are you alright?" Fitch asked.
"No," Marcus said simply.
"File this afternoon."
Fitch nodded.
"All of it," Marcus said.
"Everything Obi has found.
Everything Claire brought in.
Every document." He stood up.
"I want him to understand the full size of it."
He walked out.
In the lobby downstairs, ten minutes later, she was sitting with Luca, who was explaining to her in great detail why the duck at the park last Saturday had been rude to him personally and should be held accountable.
Marcus walked out of the elevator and looked at them.
Luca looked up.
"Daddy.
Tell her about the duck."
"The duck was very rude," Marcus said.
"See?" Luca said to her.
Vindicated.
She looked at Marcus.
One question in her eyes.
He gave her a small, tired nod.
She let out a long, slow breath.
Luca looked between them.
"Can we get lunch?" he asked.
"I want the noodles."
Marcus crouched down and straightened Luca's collar — it had been crooked since morning.
"Yeah, buddy," he said.
"We can get the noodles."
Luca took both their hands at the same time, one in each of his, and walked toward the door between them without asking, as if this had already been decided and only the adults needed to catch up.
Neither of them pulled away.
Outside, three days later, Daniel Voss's attorney filed a counter-motion arguing insufficient evidence.
Dr.
May you like
Obi submitted forty-seven pages of documented transactions in response.
The counter-motion was withdrawn by Friday afternoon.
