The door groaned as I entered, my footsteps echoing in the quiet apartment. I found Daniel pacing back and forth, his usual composure replaced with restless energy. His tie hung loosely around his neck, and his suit—normally impeccable—looked wrinkled and disordered, a rare sight for someone who prided himself on perfection.
"Tracie," he said urgently as his eyes locked onto me, his voice tight with frustration. "It’s over. The Whitaker Corporation just pulled out of the deal."
I paused in the doorway, slowly slipping off my heels and placing my purse on the table with deliberate care. "What? Why would they do that?"
"I don’t know!" Daniel exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in sheer disbelief. "It was supposed to be finalized. I trusted them, Tracie."
I moved closer, instinctively placing a hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him. "It might not be as bad as it sounds," I said, trying to offer comfort. "You’ve always managed to get through these things before. You’ll find a way."
His eyes darkened, and his voice dropped. "No, I won’t," he muttered bitterly, a vulnerability I rarely saw creeping into his tone. "It’s all gone."
"All gone?" I repeated, confusion lining my words.
"The money," he said quietly, his gaze sinking to the floor. "I gambled away the funds from the insurance company. I thought I could double it, but..." His voice trailed off, and he collapsed onto the couch, his hands covering his face in defeat. "I was counting on Whitaker to pull us out, but now they’re gone. It’s over. My father is going to kill me if he finds out. He won’t trust me again."
I blinked, holding back a sharp laugh. Of course, he had no idea. How could he?
Because I was the one who had made sure Whitaker pulled out. I was the one who had been manipulating the situation for years, but now? This was the endgame. My revenge. For all the times he had deceived me, pretending I was everything to him when I was really just another pawn in his game.
"Daniel," I said, keeping my voice level, "maybe it’s not as bad as you think."
"It’s worse than you can imagine," he muttered, barely audible.
Before I could respond, the door to the apartment swung open, and Eduard, Daniel’s secretary, burst in without knocking. His face was ashen with panic.
"Mr. Eddy, there’s a mob outside the office," Eduard said, his voice trembling. "They’re demanding their payouts."
Daniel’s eyes widened with shock. "What?"
"They know we can’t pay them," Eduard continued, shooting a nervous glance at me before turning his attention back to Daniel. "The word’s out. Complaints are being filed. Lawsuits are coming."
Daniel’s expression morphed instantly from disbelief to rage. "Dismiss them," he snapped. "Find a flaw in their contracts. Anything that can stop them from taking more than they’re owed."
Eduard hesitated, clearly reluctant. "But, sir—"
"I said, do it!" Daniel shouted, his fist crashing down onto the table, making the room vibrate.
Ed quickly nodded and hurried out, leaving the two of us in a tense silence.
The air seemed to thicken as Daniel continued to pace furiously. His muttering filled the room, his thoughts clearly racing. "This can’t be it... There has to be a way out..."
Suddenly, his movements slowed, and he froze, his eyes snapping wide open. His face twisted into a smile as if he had just come up with a brilliant plan.
"Oh, right," he murmured, as though an idea had just struck him. "The wedding..."
He stopped abruptly, his gaze flickering nervously to me. I stood motionless, watching him closely.
But instead of continuing, Daniel turned away, pulling out his phone and dialing without saying another word. As he paced away from me, his voice began to rise, speaking rapidly in Italian.
I knew exactly what he was saying.
"Move the wedding up," he barked into the phone. "This week. I need her money now. The company is crashing, and I can’t afford to wait any longer. She has to invest. Don’t worry about the details—just make it happen."
I stood frozen in place, the words slicing through me like a chill wind. Every syllable felt like a betrayal.
When he ended the call, Daniel slid his phone back into his pocket and turned toward me, his face carefully composed. "Sorry, sweetheart," he said with an almost casual air. "That was just a business partner. He doesn’t speak English, so I had to handle it in Italian."
"Of course," I replied, my voice flat, betraying none of the turmoil I felt inside.
Daniel didn’t seem to notice the detachment in my tone. He crossed the room to me, his hands finding their way to my shoulders in what he probably thought was a comforting gesture. "Look," he began, his voice lowering, "I know things are crazy right now. And I’m going to be swamped with work for the next few months. I don’t want you stuck here alone while I’m dealing with all this."
I raised an eyebrow, trying to mask my suspicion. "What are you getting at?"
He hesitated, as though weighing his words. "I think you should go to Costa Rica. Just for a little while. Take a break. Rest. You deserve it."
"Costa Rica?" I repeated, the surprise evident in my voice.
"Yeah," he said, his tone lightening with excitement. "I’ll take care of everything—flight, hotel, the works. You’ll love it. Once things settle down, I’ll bring you back. I promise."
I stared at him, speechless for a long moment, completely stunned by the audacity of his suggestion. Finally, I broke the silence. "Why?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "So you can plan your wedding in peace?"
