Chapter 4
Terms in Red Ink
Daniel Roe arrived at nine with three binders and the expression of a man who had already decided which questions he would refuse to answer.
Mara sat across from him in Adrian’s study. The city shone behind the glass. She had not slept after finding the note beneath her signature.
Your father did not die by suicide.
Adrian stood by the window, one hand in his pocket. He had changed into a dark suit. The scratched silver cuff button was gone.
“You revised the contract,” Mara said.
Daniel opened the first binder. “Mr. Yan gave me instructions. I prepared the document.”
“The red ink?”
“The red ink was not in my draft.”
Mara slid the photographed page across the desk. The handwritten sentence sat below her name like a second signature.
“Who put it there?”
Daniel’s gaze moved to Adrian.
Adrian did not look away from the window. “I did.”
“Why?”
“Because it is true.”
“You expect me to believe you wrote a warning on the contract instead of saying it aloud?”
“You were not listening to anything I said.”
“I was listening to you offer me a lifetime of court supervision or three years in your bed.”
Daniel cleared his throat. “The contract does not specify sexual access.”
Mara turned to him. “Does it specify what he can ask for?”
“Public appearances, residence, exclusivity, and availability for private matters.”
“Define private.”
“The language is intentionally broad.”
“So he can interpret it whenever he wants.”
“No. A court would examine mutual conduct and written notice.”
“That sounds like a very expensive way to discover whether I was allowed to say no.”
Adrian finally turned from the window.
“You are allowed to say no.”
“And then?”
“Then I decide whether the refusal breaches the agreement.”
“There it is.”
His eyes narrowed. “You wanted a clean answer. The arrangement is not clean.”
“You made it dirty.”
Mara opened the second binder. A paragraph near the exit clause had been printed over with darker ink. The original wording was still visible beneath it.
If the companion leaves before the term ends, the acquired claims shall be restored in full.
The new sentence added two words.
With accumulated interest.
“How much interest?”
Daniel answered quietly. “The rate is tied to each original instrument.”
“So the debt could double.”
“It could increase.”
“You revised this too?”
Adrian’s expression did not shift. “Yes.”
Mara stood.
“You knew I might leave.”
“I assumed you would.”
“And you built a punishment into the contract.”
“I built a consequence into a contract.”
“You’re proud of the distinction?”
“No. I’m precise about it.”
She turned. “Then be precise about my father.”
Adrian’s attention sharpened.
“What do you know?”
“That he took something from Mercer Crown. That you believe he didn’t kill himself. That someone wearing your company’s badge was in my club last night looking for a box.”
Daniel looked at Adrian again.
This time, Adrian’s silence answered enough.
“You knew about the box.”
“I suspected it existed.”
“You suspected it was in my speaker cabinet.”
“I suspected your father hid something in a place no creditor would search.”
“And you watched me work there.”
“I watched the people following you.”
“You are one of them.”
“No.”
The word was so flat that she believed he believed it.
That was not the same as believing him.
Adrian placed a photograph on the desk. It showed Quinn Meridian’s headquarters from the night before the company filed for protection.
Her father stood on the roof.
Beside him stood a younger man Mara recognized immediately: Nathan Mercer, Adrian’s older brother.
On the back, written in Nathan’s hand, were four words.
Ask her about the account.
Mara looked at Adrian.
“Why was he there?”
“That is what I’m trying to find out.”
“You bought my debt to ask me questions?”
“I bought your debt because Victor was preparing to buy it.”
“Your uncle.”
Adrian’s jaw hardened.
“Victor would not have offered you a contract. He would have taken the company, the remaining assets, and every person who tried to protect you.”
“You are asking me to be grateful that you chose the softer weapon.”
“I am asking you to understand which weapon is pointed at us.”
Us.
The word had no right to exist between them.
Mara closed the binder.
“I want the original draft.”
“You’ll have it tonight.”
“And the badge?”
“Daniel will give you the employee roster.”
“All of it.”
Adrian studied her.
“You’re learning.”
“I’m surviving.”
On Daniel’s tablet, a new alert appeared. Someone had entered the acquisition room using Daniel’s credentials.
The access had lasted eleven seconds.
Long enough to download the spreadsheet.
Daniel looked up. “The user is still inside the building.”
Adrian’s hand closed around the photograph.
“Lock every exit.”
The study door clicked.
Someone on the other side tried the handle.