"I... I can tell you nas," Zhao whispered, his eyes darting frantically between the detective and the thick file on the table. "I can give you the accounts. But I need a deal. You have to promise I won’t go to prison."
"The detective leaned forward, resting his forearms on the cold tal. "I’ll give you this. You work with us, and if your information actually leads us to recover the money, maybe the prosecutor will consider taking a few years off your sentence."
Zhao stared at the detective, his mouth hanging slightly open as the harsh reality set in. The hope of walking away scot-free vanished instantly, replaced by the grim certainty of a prison cell.
You could continue like this:
"A few years off?" Zhao’s voice cracked. "That’s it?"
The detective didn’t blink.
"You’re accused of stealing millions of dollars, Zhao. What exactly were you expecting?"
Zhao ran both hands through his hair and laughed bitterly.
"I was expecting protection. A new identity. Sothing along those lines."
"This isn’t a movie," the detective replied. "You don’t get to empty accounts, disappear, and then negotiate your way out of the consequences."
Zhao’s gaze dropped to the table.
"You don’t understand," he muttered.
"Then help understand."
Zhao looked up.
Fear was written all over his face.
"If I start talking, they won’t let live long enough to see a courtroom."
The detective studied him carefully.
"Who’s ’they’?"
Zhao hesitated.
His eyes flicked toward the one-way mirror on the wall.
"The people behind the money."
The detective leaned back slightly.
"Nas, Zhao."
Zhao swallowed hard.
For a long mont, the room was silent.
Then he took a shaky breath.
"Get protection first," he said. "Then I’ll tell you everything."
....
That night, Zhao called Mark from the prison phone.
The line rang three tis before he answered.
"Mark!"
"Zhao? Is that really you?" Mark’s voice ca through the receiver.
"Shut up. This is all your fault. Now you know who we ssed with, right? I saw it on the news. So billionaire. Do you know where I am? I’m calling from jail, you dumbass."
Mark’s end of the line went dead silent.
"Jail?" Mark finally whispered. "How... how did they find you? Did you wipe the servers? Zhao, tell you wiped the servers."
"Are you deaf?" Zhao hissed, glancing nervously at the prison guard standing a few feet away. He lowered his voice. "They didn’t just trace the servers, Mark. They have a file on thicker than a phone book. They know about the data theft, the espionage, everything."
"Did you tell them anything?" Mark demanded, his voice rising in sheer panic. "Zhao, listen to , you can’t say a word. If they link that money to my campaign, I’m ruined. My family, the election, it’s all gone. You have to keep your mouth shut!"
Zhao let out a sharp, bitter laugh that sounded more like a choke.
"Keep my mouth shut? I’m looking at thirty years in a concrete box! I’m a freelancer, rember? I don’t owe you my life. The detective already offered a deal and am gonna take it. Just giving you a heads up. The only way out is to confess to your girl, and hope they don’t press charges."
"No, no, no," Mark stamred, his mind clearly racing. "You can’t take a deal. We can fix this. I’ll get you a lawyer. The best lawyer money can buy."
"Your money can’t buy out of this," Zhao snapped. "Have a nice life."
Mark lowered the phone slowly.
For the first ti, he realized just how badly things had spiraled out of control.
Now it would be next to impossible to get Lyvana back. She was getting married tomorrow, and it would be too hard to compete with a man like Julian.
He had power and he had money. Money...
He stared down at his phone. He considered finding a way to return Lyvana’s money before Zhao talked. But then again, Lyvana didn’t even need it anymore. He was the one who needed it. For the campaign, and for the child Clarisse was carrying, now that the DNA test had proven it was his.
The amount felt so small to him now.
But stolen money was still stolen money.
If Zhao cooperated with the authorities, every transaction would be traced. Every account would be examined. Every person connected to the missing funds would co under scrutiny.
Mark rubbed his face tiredly.
What had once seed like a temporary solution was quickly turning into a disaster.
For the first ti, Mark found himself wondering whether he had already crossed a line he could never co back from.
He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
Regret changes nothing.
The thought ca to him imdiately. He could sit here and feel guilty all he wanted. It wouldn’t put the money back where it belonged.
It wouldn’t stop Zhao from talking, and it certainly wouldn’t erase the choices he had already made.
He closed his eyes.
He had to find a way to talk to Lyvana and tell her the truth, no matter the consequences.
Thousands of miles away, another man was wrestling with his own demons.
Andrew stood at the window of the safe house, staring out into the distance. Two weeks had passed since his arrival, but the anger inside him had only grown stronger.
Then his phone started vibrating in his pocket.
He pulled it out and frowned imdiately when he saw who was calling.
The Master.
"Hello."
"Am I bothering you, Andrew?"
"I’m sorry, I ant to call."
"Sure you did. Are you defying now?" the caller asked.
"You know that’s not what I ant, I just wanted..."
"I told you to co in, a week ago."
"And I will. I just have other plans."
"Seems like you have forgotten your rightful place? Do you want to remind you again? To whom do you owe your life?"
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