Chapter 9: What Victoria Did with the Letters
The meeting happened at two in the afternoon in a conference room on the forty-third floor of a building three blocks from Whitmore Tower.
Priya sat across from Victoria's lead attorney, a man named Garrett Foss who wore his confidence the way some men wore expensive watches — visibly, and as a form of communication.
Daniel sat beside Priya.
He had not expected to see Victoria.
She was there.
She sat at the far end of the table in the same cream blazer from the press conference, her hands folded in front of her, her eyes finding Daniel's the moment he walked in and not letting go.
He sat down and looked at Garrett Foss.
"You requested this meeting," Priya said.
"Go ahead."
Foss opened a folder.
"My client acknowledges that the events of last evening were serious and that Ms.
Ramirez suffered real harm.
She is prepared to offer a substantial civil settlement to Ms.
Ramirez, to cover all medical costs and provide long-term financial support, in exchange for—"
"No," Daniel said.
Foss paused.
"Mr.
Whitmore, if you'll allow me to finish—"
"There's no version of this offer I'm going to accept," Daniel said.
"Ms.
Ramirez makes her own decisions about civil matters.
But I will not withdraw cooperation from the criminal investigation.
That's not on the table."
Foss looked at Victoria.
Victoria unfolded her hands.
"Daniel," she said.
Her voice was different from the press conference voice.
Quieter.
More direct.
"I made a terrible mistake.
I know that.
I was not in a rational state of mind.
I had convinced myself of something that wasn't true, and I acted on it in a way that I cannot take back." She paused.
"I'm not asking you to forgive me.
I'm asking you to consider what a trial will do to both of us.
To your company.
To things that are private and should stay private."
"The letters," Daniel said.
She didn't blink.
"I have them."
"I know."
"They're personal.
They were written by your mother.
I don't want to use them.
But if this goes to trial, everything becomes discoverable.
Everything becomes public.
I don't control what my legal team has to do to build a defense."
Priya leaned forward slightly.
"Ms.
Hale, those letters have no legal relevance to a criminal proceeding.
Any attempt to introduce them would be challenged immediately and successfully.
What you're describing is not a legal strategy.
It's a threat."
Victoria looked at Priya for the first time.
"I'm being honest," Victoria said.
"You're being recorded," Priya said pleasantly.
"As is standard in any legal consultation.
I want to make sure you're aware of that."
Something shifted in Foss's expression.
He touched Victoria's arm.
Victoria ignored him.
"Daniel." Her voice dropped.
"I loved you.
I know you don't believe that right now.
But I did.
And I watched you look at her the way you never looked at me, and I—" She stopped.
"I lost myself.
I know I lost myself.
But everything I did came from loving you too much."
The room was very quiet.
"You threatened a pregnant woman," Daniel said.
"In her hospital room.
This morning.
You told her to think about what was best for her baby." He kept his voice level.
"That wasn't love.
That was strategy.
And it was the wrong one."
Victoria's jaw tightened.
"The letters," she said.
"I'll return them.
Today.
No copies.
In exchange for—"
"Keep them," Daniel said.
She stared at him.
"Keep every one of them," he said.
"Read them.
Show them to whoever you want.
My mother wrote that she was afraid I would end up alone and mistake it for strength." He paused.
"She was right to be afraid.
I almost proved her right by marrying you." He stood.
"We're done here."
Priya closed her notepad and stood with him.
Foss said, "Mr.
Whitmore, I strongly advise—"
"Priya will handle everything from here," Daniel said.
"Good afternoon."
He walked out.
In the elevator, Priya stood beside him without speaking until the doors closed.
Then she said: "The recording of her threatening to use the letters as leverage in a criminal proceeding is going to be very useful."
"I thought it might be," Daniel said.
The elevator descended.
"You planned that," Priya said.
"James suggested it last night."
Priya nodded once.
"Your brother is good."
"He's better than he admits," Daniel said.
The doors opened.
Outside, Chicago was cold and bright, the lake visible at the end of the block, the sky the particular shade of blue that only appeared in October.
Daniel stood on the sidewalk for a moment.
Then he called Noah.
"I need you to do something," Daniel said.
"Find Marcus Webb.
Don't call him.
Go in person.
Tell him Elena is in the hospital.
Tell him she's going to be all right.
Tell him there's something he needs to know, and that it should come from her, not from me." A pause.
"But make sure he knows before the end of today."
"Understood," Noah said.
"Anything else?"
Daniel looked up at the sky.
"Order pizza," he said.
"Pepperoni.
Extra cheese.
Have it at the hospital by six."
May you like
A short silence.
"Done," Noah said.
