"Of a legal development project." Janelle's laugh is bitter. Sharp. "Of legitimate property acquisition."
"That you're using lies and intimidation to push through." My free hand clenches at my side. "Threats. Manipulation. Bribes."
Maris steps forward. Places herself slightly in front of me. My chest tightens at the gesture.
"We have proof now," Maris says. Voice steady despite the way her hands shake. "Blueprints showing you planned to demolish before you even made offers. Timelines proving you knew the town council meeting was scheduled. You manipulated the process."
Janelle laughs. It's sharp and cold. "And who's going to believe you? A failed café owner and an ex-gladiator? You have no credibility."
"The blueprints speak for themselves," I say. My voice is low. Controlled. Each word deliberate.
"Those are stolen property," Janelle snaps back. Her chin lifts. Defiant. "Inadmissible in any legal proceeding. You broke the law to get them."
"We'll see what the town council thinks." Maris's voice cuts through. Sharp. Clear.
Janelle's laugh is harsh. Brittle. "The town council does what I tell them to do. I own half of them already. The other half will fall in line once I remind them where their campaign donations came from."
The casual arrogance in her voice—the way she says it like it's nothing, like people are just pieces on a board she moves around—makes something snap inside me. Heat floods my chest. My vision narrows. I take a step forward. My boots scrape against the alley pavement.
Maris's hand shoots out. Small fingers wrap around my forearm. Grip tight. "Don't," she says quietly. Firmly.
"She's threatening us." The words come out rough. Grinding.
"I know. But we have what we need. We can?—"
Janelle moves fast. Faster than I expect for someone in those sharp shoes. She lunges for the blueprints. Her hand reaches out. Claws at the papers.
Maris yanks them back. Hard. Too hard. They both stumble. Maris's foot catches on the uneven ground.
I catch her. My arm wraps around her waist. Steady her against my chest. The blueprints crumple between us but stay in her grip.
Janelle recovers. Straightens. Her hair is disheveled now. One side of her collar twisted. Her eyes are wild. Desperate. The polished veneer cracking at the edges.
"Give me those papers." Her voice shakes. Not with fear. With fury.
"No." Maris's answer is flat. Final.
"I'll call the police. Right now. Have you both arrested for theft."
"Go ahead," Maris says. "We'll tell them about the harassment. The intimidation tactics. The doctored photos. All of it."
"You have no proof of any of that."
"We have witnesses. Timestamps. Screenshots."
Janelle's mouth works. She's cornered and she knows it.
"This isn't over," she hisses. "You think you've won something but you haven't. I will make your life hell. Both of you."
She spins. Stalks back away from us.
Maris and I are in the alley. The blueprints crumpled between us. My heart is still racing. My hands are shaking.
"That was?—"
"Terrifying," Maris finishes. "That was terrifying."
"But we did it. We got the proof."
