He waits, counting under his breath. When the first flicker of movement comes—a shallow inhale, a twitch of fingers—Daniel exhales, relief and dread mixing in his chest.
“Good,” he murmurs. “You’re back.”
Tom groans, disoriented. His head lolls, eyes half-opening. The confusion hits first, then fear, visible as a tightening around his mouth.
“Daniel?” His voice is raw. “What the hell—what are you doing?”
Daniel keeps his tone calm. Patient. “You’re fine. I just needed you to stop panicking before we talked.”
“Talk?” Tom struggles against the tape, wincing. “You tied me up in my own bathroom.”
“I had to,” Daniel says quickly. “You weren’t listening.”
Tom lets out a short, disbelieving laugh that dissolves into a cough. “Jesus Christ, Daniel, this isn’t how people get heard.”
Daniel ignores that. His heart is hammering, his palms slick.
“What has happened to you?” he says. “There was a time when you would do anything for me. But now, look at you, won’t even give me the time of day. Yet, you’ll become pals with a crook like Emma Christianson!”
“How do you know her?” Tom asks.
Daniel sighs. “I was her lawyer briefly. I was assigned to her a few months back when she was charged with arson,” he explains. “Although, it didn’t last long when I realised that she was a compulsive liar. She lied about everything and anything she could. Completely untrustworthy and not worth my time. Or yours, for that matter, but maybe that’s just who you are these days.”
Tom doesn’t respond.
“Look, I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, and the words are true in the moment. “But I’ve run out of time. We can no longer do this civilly when you won’t listen to me.”
Tom tugs his arms, but the duct tape is holding him tight.
“I need my money, Tom.”
Tom blinks at him, still dazed. “What?”
“I know your dad died.” Daniel leans forward, searching Tom’s face. “I know what that means. The inheritance. You’ve come into money, haven’t you?”
“Yes, you know I have.”
“I need my fair share of it,” Daniel says calmly. “My settlement. And I need it now.”
“What are you talking about? My inheritance came through well after our divorce was finalised.” Tom swallows hard. “You’ve completely lost it.”
“No.” Daniel’s breathing quickens.
At first, Daniel had planned to do things properly. Theformalroute. He’d even drafted the beginnings of the application—his claim to financial relief as a former cohabitant under the Inheritance Act. The respectable, legitimate way to get what he was entitled to. Butthey are way beyond that. Now, it’s just about making it through the night.
“I’ve done my research. I’ve seen the filings, the probate application. It’s public record, Tom. Don’t insult me.”
Tom closes his eyes like he’s praying for this to stop. “You’ve been digging through legal records?”
“I had to,” Daniel says. “You wouldn’t talk to me. You blocked my number, you ignored every message. What choice did I have?”
“Every other choice than this!” Tom snaps, voice breaking.
Daniel’s jaw tightens. He looks down at Tom. “Four hundred thousand pounds,” he says quietly. “That’s what I need.”
Tom laughs—a high, incredulous sound. “Four hundred thousand? Are you out of your mind? I don’t have that kind of money!”
“Yes, you do.”
