Page 33 of Broken Blades

And that knowledge sat between us like a third presence at the table.

"What's going on?" She broke the silence. Her voice smaller than it had been. Uncertain.

Neither of us looked at her.

Harrington's eyes stayed locked on mine. Calculating. Trying to figure out my endgame. Trying to anticipate where this would go. What I'd demand. How much damage I planned to do before walking away satisfied.

I leaned back again. Casual. Relaxed. Let my expression shift into something almost pleasant. "I'm just here to help."

The lie tasted sweet.

"Clear up misunderstandings." I gestured vaguely toward the empty restaurant. "Make sure everyone walks away from this... intact."

His nostrils flared. "What do you want?"

There it was. The real question. The only one that mattered.

I let the silence stretch. Let him wait. Let his daughter watch me with those wide, confused eyes that hadn't yet learned to see monsters sitting across polished tables wearing expensive suits.

Then I smiled. Slow. Deliberate.

"I want to help protect your daughter's reputation."

Truth and lie wrapped together so tightly you couldn't separate them.

His jaw clenched. "How?"

I met his gaze. Held it. Let him see exactly how much I was enjoying this. How long I'd waited. How carefully I'd planned.

"Simple," I said. "We give them a better story."

Harrington's phone buzzed against the table. Once. Twice. Insistent vibration cutting through the tension like a blade.

He glanced down. Face still granite. But something shifted behind his eyes. Just for a second. A flicker of pressure he couldn't completely hide.

He swiped the screen. Read. Jaw tightened fractionally.

Investor. Had to be. Or board member. Maybe someone from the firm demanding answers. Wanting reassurance that the golden merger wasn't about to implode because of a scandal involving the CEO's daughter and a player with a documented history of "instability."

He set the phone face-down. Ignored it.

But I'd seen enough.

"They're nervous." Not a question. Statement of fact. Observation delivered with just enough sympathy to make it sting worse.

His voice came out clipped. Sharp. "The merger will proceed."

I tilted my head. Let my gaze drift toward his daughter. She sat perfectly still, hands folded tight in her lap. Trying to hold herself together while everything around her started cracking.

"If this dies, she loses her new position too, doesn't she?"

The words landed soft. Almost concerned. Like I genuinely cared about her career prospects instead of using them as leverage.

Her eyes widened slightly. Color drained from her cheeks. She hadn't realized. Hadn't connected the dots that her shiny new executive role wasn't just nepotism. It was optics. Stability. The "next generation" investors wanted to see when they wrote checks with too many zeros. Family continuity. Trustworthy leadership passing seamlessly from father to daughter.

All of that evaporated if she became a scandal instead of an asset.

I watched the realization hit her face. Watched her understand that this wasn't just about embarrassing photographs or media gossip. This was about her future. Her career. Everything she'd worked toward.