Chapter 15: The Bribe
250 words
"Meet me at the old docks. Alone. Or the paint on your husband’s grave won't be the worst thing that happens."
I stood by the rusty railing of Pier 4, the wind whipping my hair. I felt small, but Vance had coached me. 'Fear is fuel,' he had said.
The silver Pagani rolled up, its engine purring menacingly. Preston stepped out, checking his Italian loafers for dust. He didn't look at my face; he looked at the horizon.
"Let's cut the theater," he said, pulling a thick envelope from his jacket. "One hundred thousand dollars. Cash. Tax-free."
My heart pounded against my ribs. It was more money than I’d seen in a decade. It could pay off the debts. It could buy peace.
"And the lawsuit?" I asked, slipping my hand into my pocket where my phone was recording. Recording consent laws in this state were one-party. Vance had checked.
"Dropped. Gone. You disappear," Preston spat. "It’s a generous settlement negotiation for a waitress who drives a hunk of junk. Take it. It’s more than you’re worth."
He extended the envelope. I looked at his manicured hands, then at his cruel eyes. He truly believed everyone had a price.
I stepped back. "No deal."
He scowled, confused. "You stupid cow. You’ll never see a dime otherwise. I’ll crush you."
"See you in court, Mr. Sterling." I turned and walked away, his shouts echoing behind me like the barking of a chained dog.
End of Chapter 15
