"He has connections at city hall," said Sean. "At least two council mbers who vote consistently in his favor on zoning decisions. Possibly a judge. Possibly soone in the DA’s office. I don’t know the specifics of those connections but they exist."
"You think they’re financial?" said Max.
"I think a man like Victor doesn’t make friends," said Sean. "He makes transactions."
Max nodded. Still typing. "What made him target your specific situation?"
"A building he wants. The owner refused to sell. So he arranged for the owner’s family mber to end up in debt to a company he controls. Crestline Financial Solutions."
Max’s fingers slowed. "He owns Crestline?"
"That’s what I believe. Directly or through a front. I need you to confirm it."
"What do you want to do with what I find?" said Max.
"I want leverage," said Sean. "The kind that makes a man like Victor Hale decide that leaving one building alone is worth more to him than anything else he might gain from pursuing it."
Max looked at him with those sharp eyes. "You want to blackmail him."
"I want to have a conversation with him," said Sean carefully. "Where he is fully inford of his situation."
Max considered that. "That’s the sa thing."
"Not legally," said Sean.
A small pause. Then sothing that might have been the beginning of a smile moved across Max’s face. Brief. Very brief.
"Alright," said Max. "I’ll start tonight. I’ll need you to not contact for the first five days. I work better without check-ins."
"Fine," said Sean. "But I’m going to need progress at the one-week mark. Sothing to show the direction."
"You’ll have it," said Max. He reopened his laptops. The screens ca back up. Multiple windows. Lines of code. Things that Sean couldn’t fully read but that conveyed competence in every detail.
"One more thing," said Sean.
Max looked up.
"Your sister’s surgery. Don’t tell her where the money ca from yet. Just tell her it’s handled."
Max looked at him for a mont. "Why?"
"Because I don’t want her worrying about who to thank while she’s trying to get healthy," said Sean. "She can know everything later."
Max held his gaze. Then he nodded once.
Sean stood up. Straightened his jacket. Picked up his phone.
"Sean Miller," said Max.
Sean paused.
"You’re not what you look like," said Max. Not as an accusation. Just as an observation.
"Nobody is," said Sean.
He walked out of the library.
==========
[The next day]
Sean had underestimated how fast Victor Hale would react.
He was back in his apartnt the following morning, sitting at his desk reviewing his investnt positions using his Business Insight skill, when he heard raised voices in the corridor outside.
He opened his door.
Makima was standing in the hallway on the floor below him. Three n in suits were with her. One of them was talking. His posture was the kind that said he was used to not being argued with.
Sean walked down the stairs.
As he ca around the corner he caught the end of what the man was saying.
"...advise you to reconsider the offer very seriously, Ms. Makima. Mr. Hale has been very patient."
"Mr. Hale can continue being patient," said Makima. Her voice was controlled but her hands were tight at her sides.
"The situation with your brother has been resolved," said the man. "We understand that. But Mr. Hale’s interest in this property exists independently of that matter. The offer stands."
"I didn’t accept the offer before," said Makima. "I’m not accepting it now."
"Ms. Makima—"
"Is there a problem here?" said Sean.
All four of them turned.
The n in suits looked at Sean. He was in his apartnt casual wear. Not the suit. Not dressed for anything impressive. Just a young man in the corridor of a residential building.
The lead man looked him up and down. "This is a private conversation."
"Not really," said Sean. "You’re standing in a shared hallway having a loud conversation with my landlord. That makes it everyone’s business." He looked at Makima. "Everything okay?"
Makima’s expression was tight. "These gentlen were just leaving."
The lead man looked back at her. Then at Sean. Then back at her. His calculation was visible. This was a young kid in an apartnt building. Not relevant.
"Ms. Makima. The offer is three hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the full property. That’s a generous valuation above market rate. Mr. Hale will require a decision within seven days."
"My decision is no," said Makima.
"I’d encourage you to think about that more carefully," said the man. His tone was still professional but sothing underneath it had hardened. "Mr. Hale has a lot of patience. But that patience has a limit. It would be... unfortunate if circumstances beca more difficult than they need to be."
Sean looked at the man. "Was that a threat?"
The man turned to him again. More slowly this ti. "I beg your pardon?"
"The last thing you just said," said Sean. "Was that a threat against Ms. Makima?"
"It was a business observation," said the man coolly.
"Right," said Sean. He pulled out his phone. "Just so you know I’ve been recording this conversation for the last two minutes. Including that observation." He turned the phone so the man could see the recording app running. "If anything unfortunate happens to Ms. Makima, her building, or anyone connected to her, that recording goes sowhere very specific."
The man’s eyes moved to the phone. Then to Sean’s face. Sothing recalculated behind his expression.
"Who are you?" said the man.
"Sean Miller," said Sean. "Tenant. And Makima’s friend." He held the man’s gaze. "Tell Mr. Hale she said no. And that the next ti he sends people to this building, they should bring better manners."
The silence in the hallway was tight.
The man looked at Sean for a long mont. Then he looked at his colleagues. Sothing passed between them. An assessnt.
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