The office was small and windowless. The air was stale. Elianna's triumphant smirk was the last thing Eileen saw before the door clicked shut, leaving her alone with the man who called himself Mr. Davison.
"Please, have a seat, Miss Goff," he said, gesturing to a worn-out chair. He was trying for a reassuring smile, but it didn't reach his anxious eyes. He poured her a glass of water from a plastic pitcher, his hands shaking slightly.
He sat behind his cluttered desk, clasping his sweaty palms together. "So," he began, clearing his throat. "After a thorough emergency review by our technical department, we've discovered an unprecedented and very serious anomaly in yesterday's matching process."
Eileen listened, her face a blank canvas. She didn't believe a word. If it were a real glitch, they would have contacted her immediately, not waited for Harrison Butler's supposed fiancée to throw a tantrum in the lobby.
"A technical failure," he continued, seeing her lack of reaction. "Your name, Miss Goff, was erroneously linked with Mr. Harrison Butler's. A simple, yet profound, system error."
She remained silent, her stillness unnerving him. He was used to people who were either hysterical or greedy. He didn't know what to do with quiet intelligence.
He decided to get to the point. He pulled open a drawer and retrieved a crisp file folder and a slim, platinum bank card. He slid them across the desk.
"Miss Goff, to compensate you for the... distress this error has caused, the federal system is prepared to offer you a substantial financial settlement."
He tapped a finger on the top page of the document. "One million dollars. All you have to do is sign this match-cancellation agreement, and the money is yours. Instantly."
One million.
The number hit her with physical force. Her heart skipped a beat, then started pounding a frantic, heavy rhythm against her ribs. One million dollars. It was an impossible sum. It was freedom. It was a new life for her and her grandmother, far away from Bridget and Frank. It was safety.
Her mind raced. Take the money and run. Disappear back into the anonymity she knew. Or refuse, and step onto a battlefield where she had no armor and no allies.
---
Miles away, in a glass-walled office overlooking the city, Harrison Butler listened, his face impassive. The voice of his assistant, Caleb Finch, was a tinny but clear stream in his earbud.
"Sir, the Mays family has bought the registry supervisor. They're offering her a million dollars to sign a cancellation agreement. Delphine is moving faster than we anticipated."
A flicker of something cold and dangerous passed through Harrison's eyes. He looked out at the sprawling city below, a kingdom he had built.
"They underestimate her," he said, his voice a low murmur.
He cut the connection, stood, and shrugged on his tailored suit jacket. "Cole," he said to the mountain of a man standing silently by the door. "To the registry."
---
Back in the suffocating office, Mr. Davison saw the flicker of conflict in Eileen's eyes and pressed his advantage.
"It's a win-win, Miss Goff," he said, his voice slick with false sincerity. "You get the money, and Mr. Butler's life can return to normal. It's the sensible thing to do."
Eileen's fingers tapped a light, steady rhythm on the arm of the chair. Her mind was a whirlwind of fear and temptation. But one question cut through the noise.
"Mr. Davison," she asked, her voice quiet but clear. "If this was a system error, why do you need my signature on a 'cancellation agreement'? Shouldn't the system just correct itself?"
The man's practiced smile froze on his face. He hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected her to think.
"It's... a procedural requirement," he stammered, fumbling for an answer.
And there it was. The confirmation. This wasn't a glitch. This was a transaction. They needed her to voluntarily step aside.
She thought of Elianna's sneer, of her parents' greedy eyes. A lifetime of being pushed around, of being told she was worthless. A spark of rebellion, hot and fierce, flared in her chest. Why should they get to decide her fate?
But a million dollars. It was a real, tangible escape. Was a moment of defiance worth giving that up?
Her hand reached out, her fingers closing around the cool plastic of the pen on the desk. She lifted it. It felt impossibly heavy.
Davison's shoulders sagged in relief. Through the small, wired-glass window in the door, Eileen could see Elianna's silhouette, her posture radiating triumph.
Eileen's hand moved over the paper. The tip of the pen hovered just above the signature line. Her wrist tensed, ready to press down.
CRACK.
The sound was like a gunshot. The office door flew open, slamming against the wall with enough force to shake the pictures hanging crookedly.
Every head snapped towards the entrance.
Harrison Butler stood there, framed in the doorway. He wasn't a man; he was a storm contained in a bespoke suit, and he had just broken into the room.
