“We’ll get to that.” Will sat on the couch and opened a laptop. “First things first, we need to get a few things straight. And don’t bother calling whoever it is you think you’re calling, because they won’t get here in time.”
Campeau froze again. Cole pretended not to notice his own goose bumps at Will delivering the threat so casually.
Why is that hot?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Oblivious to Cole’s brain short-circuiting again, Campeau sat back, crossing his arms. “Fine. Talk.”
“I will. But before I talk, it’s time for show-and-tell.” He paused. “Wait, do they have show-and-tell in Canada? Is that a thing here, or?—”
“Burt,” Cole said. “Focus.”
Will shot him a dirty look. Cole suppressed a laugh.
Cursing under his breath, Will refocused on Campeau. “Anyway. I want you to look at a few things.” He put the laptop down and turned it so they could both see the screen. Cole couldn’t see it, but he knew what was on it. As Will tapped the laptop’s touchpad, the screen would be scrolling through a series of photos.
“Do you know what these are?” he asked Campeau.
Campeau’s anger deepened along with the color of his face, though there was a flicker of uneasiness in his expression now. Not fear per se, but in the ballpark. He might not have been scared—he might not have been capable of that—but he could feel the vise squeezing his balls.
“Where did you get those?” he hissed at Will. “These are fake! They’re AI!”
“No, they’re not,” Will said in the most condescending tone. “Your company managed to suppress them and keep them from being released, but they made it onto the dark web. And if they get out, even if your PR department does all its usual damage control, there’s no reeling them back in. Hell, even if they are AI-generated, they’ll still leave a stain on your company, and on you.” He inclined his head a little. “Do you feel me, Mr. Campeau? Do you understand the situation?”
Campeau’s jaw worked so hard, his teeth ground audibly. “What do you want?”
“Oh, we’re not finished yet.” Will smiled. “Because the human rights violations and environmental atrocities are just the tip of the shitberg we have to blackmail you with.”
He then proceeded to make Campeau sit through what was likely the longest PowerPoint presentation he’d ever endured. Given that he was part of his company’s C-suite, that was saying something. One by one, Will showed him every piece of dirt they’d managed to compile on him throughout the afternoon and evening.
Cole knew his way around the dark web better than he knew his way around high society, and he’d combed its darkest corners until he’d hit pay dirt. Leaked videos of Campeau engaging in bribery over everything from environmental regulations to acquiring priceless artifacts. Photos of him personally visiting places his company had destroyed, disproving his insistence he knew nothing about any environmental damage. Pictures of armed guards outside his overseas factories—not to keep people out, but to keep workers in.
Campeau may not have had a lot of fear of physical danger, but he was arrogant and vain, and he never took kindly to slights against his reputation. Multiple news outlets had been sued for even hinting that he wasn’t as rich, scrupulous, or intelligent as he claimed. As reckless as he was with his personal safety, he was fiercely protective of his image.
The slide deck ended with a photo of Campeau with his wife, and Cole knew when that slide had come up because Campeau’s rage flared even hotter.
“You leave my wife out of this,” he snarled. From anyone else, Cole might’ve thought he was being protective of her, wanting to spare her any harm or distress. From Campeau, he suspected it was more about not losing his favorite possession.
“Oh, we’re not going to involve your wife in anything.” Will smiled sweetly and picked up one of the licorice ropes. As he peeled away the cellophane wrapper, he said, “We’re just going to send all of this to her, along with screencaps from your Grindrprofile so she can see what a busy, naughty little boy you’ve been.”
Campeau’s jaw went slack.
“Then she’ll divorce your ass, and—oh!” Will put a hand to his mouth, his eyes going comically wide. “Your prenup doesn’t apply if you cheat, does it? Uh-oh!” Then he grinned again, bit off a piece of licorice, and chewed happily.
Campeau was motionless for a moment. Then he shifted his attention to Cole, who had moved to one of the other chairs. “What do you want?”
“It’s pretty simple, honestly.” Cole pressed an elbow into the armrest and affected boredom. “We need you to tell us how to find Marcus Ekström.”
At that, Campeau’s eyes went wide. “Marcus Ekström? What makes you think I know?—”
“Dude, cut the crap.” Will waved the hand holding the long licorice rope, nearly whipping Campeau with it. “We didn’t come all this way because we thought maybe you might know where he is.” He rolled his eyes, bit off another piece, and said around it, “Just tell us where he is before I beat you with this, and not in a way you’ll like it.”
Cole had to fight hard to suppress a laugh, both at the comment and the utterly baffled expression on Campeau’s face. He probably understood the situation he was in now, but he was likely wondering just what the fuck kind of person he was dealing with just then.
Cole could relate.
“So.” Will snapped the licorice rope with alarming precision, its end cracking against Campeau’s kneecap. As the man howled in pain and surprise, Will took another bite and coolly asked, “How do we find Marcus Ekström?”
