Daniel Carter had his hands pressed against the desk, his brow furrowed like the weight of the world was crushing him. To anyone else, he would’ve looked like a man on the verge of collapse—unlucky, overwhelmed, deserving of sympathy. But I had already heard the truth. I knew the cold contempt behind that performance. Every word he spoke was carefully chosen to push me toward ruin.
“The situation is really bad, Emily,” he said, lowering his gaze with almost perfect timing. “I tried to fix it without worrying you, but I can’t anymore.”
Under the table, my hands clenched to stop their trembling. “Is it that serious?”
He sighed like it physically hurt him to admit it.
“Worse than you think. If we don’t act fast, we could lose everything. The house, the cars… they could even freeze our accounts.”
Our accounts.
I almost laughed.
I wanted to pull out my phone, play the recording, and watch his lies collapse in real time. But not yet. I had learned something in the past few days—truth isn’t always thrown immediately. Sometimes it waits. Sometimes it sharpens.
So I lowered my eyes and pretended to be afraid.
“What can we do?”
He looked up, and for a split second, I saw it—a flicker of hunger.