Chapter 3 - Forty-Seven Million DollarsI didn’t sleep.
For several seconds, I simply stared at Daniel.
Wine still covered the front of his shirt.
A dark streak crossed his collar.
One drop slid slowly from his cuff and struck the marble floor.
“You own Mercer Capital?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Yes.”
Six months.
Six months of coffee dates, late-night walks, takeout dinners, and quiet weekends.
Six months of thinking I knew the man standing in front of me.
I let go of his hand.
“You told me you worked in private investments.”
“I do.”
“That is technically true in the same way saying the president works in government is technically true.”
A corner of his mouth almost moved.
I didn’t smile.
“Daniel.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
An elevator opened at the end of the corridor.
Two security officers stepped out, followed by the Halstead Grand’s general manager.
“Mr. Mercer,” the manager said breathlessly. “Mr. Halstead asked that you please return to the ballroom.”
Daniel didn’t even turn.
“We’re leaving.”
The manager hesitated.
“Sir, Mr. Halstead believes the situation can be resolved.”
“It can.”
Hope appeared on the man’s face.
Daniel pressed the elevator button.
“Without another conversation tonight.”
The doors opened.
We stepped inside.
The manager remained in the hallway.
When the elevator doors closed, I crossed my arms.
“You hid who you were.”
Daniel leaned against the mirrored wall.
“I didn’t lie about my life.”
“You left out approximately ninety-nine percent of it.”
“That’s fair.”
The elevator descended.
I looked at his reflection.
“Why?”
He was silent long enough that I wondered whether he would answer.
“Because people change.”
“That’s it?”
“When they know.”
The elevator reached the lobby.
Daniel walked out.
I followed.
“Know what?”
“How much money I have. What companies I control. What doors I can open.”
He pushed through the brass lobby doors into the cool Manhattan night.
Cars moved along Fifth Avenue.
Camera flashes exploded behind the velvet ropes outside the hotel.
Word was already spreading.
Several photographers turned toward us.
“Daniel!”
“Mr. Mercer!”
“Did you pull Halstead financing?”
“Was there an incident inside?”
Daniel ignored every question.
A black SUV stopped at the curb.
The driver stepped out.
Not Daniel’s old SUV.
This was armored.
A second vehicle stopped behind it.
I stared.
Daniel saw my expression.
“I can explain.”
“You’re going to need a very long explanation.”
We climbed inside.
The moment the door closed, Daniel took off his stained jacket.
His phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen but didn’t answer.
Then it rang again.
And again.
I watched incoming names flash across the display.
Hale.
Westbrook.
Halstead.
More names I recognized from business magazines.
“You’re really going to destroy his company because his daughter poured wine on you?”
Daniel turned toward me.
“No.”
“Then what did you just do?”
“I stopped additional capital from being released until our exposure is reviewed.”
“That sounds like the billionaire version of destroying his company.”
“It isn’t.”
I looked out the window.
Manhattan lights streaked past us.
“You could have told me.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Daniel rested his hands together.
“Because the first time we met, you told me something.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“You said wealthy people were exhausting.”
Despite myself, I remembered.
We had been standing in a coffee shop during a rainstorm.
I had just left a meeting with an arrogant developer.
Daniel had been beside me in line.
I had muttered something about rich men believing money gave them permission to make everyone else miserable.
He had laughed.
Then offered me the only empty table.
I looked back at him.
“So your solution was pretending you weren’t one?”
“I never pretended.”
“You let me assume.”
“Yes.”
At least he wasn’t denying it.
My anger softened slightly.
Then my phone began vibrating.
I opened it.
Twenty-three notifications.
Three missed calls from my boss.
Seven texts from coworkers.
One video.
The video had already been posted online.
I opened it.
Victoria appeared on screen, pouring wine over Daniel.
Someone had captured the entire thing.
The caption read:
BILLIONAIRE HEIRESS HUMILIATES UNKNOWN MAN AT CHARITY GALA.
Below it, another account had already identified him.
UPDATE: “UNKNOWN MAN” IS DANIEL MERCER.
Views were climbing by thousands.
My stomach dropped.
“This is going viral.”
Daniel glanced at the screen.
“I assumed it would.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Mostly because you’re in it.”
I looked at him.
“Me?”
“You didn’t ask for this.”
Neither had he.
For the first time since leaving the ballroom, I noticed how tired he looked.
Not angry.
Tired.
“Where are we going?”
“Your apartment.”
“You know my address?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve invited me over.”
I closed my eyes.
“Right.”
My mind was spinning too quickly.
Twenty minutes later, the SUV stopped outside my building.
Daniel started to open the door.
“Wait.”
He looked at me.
“What happens now?”
“With us?”
“With Halstead.”
His expression changed.
The softness disappeared.
“Tomorrow morning my risk committee evaluates every company in the Halstead Group.”
“And if the numbers are bad?”
“Then tonight’s incident will be irrelevant.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel looked out the window.
“For three months, my analysts have been concerned about Halstead’s debt.”
“Three months?”
“Yes.”
“Then why were you financing them?”
“We were already involved when warning signs appeared.”
My stomach tightened.
“What warning signs?”
“Missing cash.”
I stared at him.
“How much?”
“We don’t know.”
“Millions?”
He looked at me.
“Possibly hundreds of millions.”
Suddenly, the humiliation at the gala seemed small.
Very small.
“And William knows?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about Victoria?”
“I doubt she knows anything useful.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
Daniel reached for the door.
“Emma.”
“What?”
“Tonight wasn’t revenge.”
I watched him.
“When she poured that wine, I called Michael because something became obvious.”
“What?”
“William Halstead has surrounded himself with people who believe consequences are for everyone else.”
His voice remained calm.
“That attitude usually starts at the top.”
I thought about William’s face when he heard the financing had been frozen.
“You think he’s hiding something.”
“I think tomorrow morning we find out.”
Daniel opened the door.
Before stepping out, he paused.
“There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“Your company works with Halstead.”
“Yes.”
“If this gets worse, your employer may become involved.”
I felt cold.
“How involved?”
Daniel hesitated.
“That depends on what your executives knew.”
I stared at him.
He closed the door and walked around to my side.
My phone vibrated again.
This time it was my boss.
MARTIN: CALL ME. NOW.
I answered.
“Martin?”
His voice came immediately.
“Emma, don’t say anything to anyone.”
“What happened?”
A long pause.
Then:
“The Halstead project accounts are being audited.”
My heart began pounding.
“Why?”
May you like
Another pause.
“Because forty-seven million dollars is missing.”
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