Chapter 10: The Last Card
David looked at the message for a long moment.
Then he looked at Elena.
"Is there anything she could have?" he said.
"Anything real."
Elena met his eyes steadily.
"No."
"You're certain."
"I'm certain.
I've lived carefully for eight months specifically because I knew this was coming." She paused.
"She's bluffing.
She found out about the folder — probably through Daniel, who found out through me mentioning it last night — and she's trying to stop the process before it starts."
"She said she has something."
"She said she has something that changes everything.
That's not the same as having it." Elena looked at the phone.
"If she had real evidence of anything, she would have used it months ago.
She would have used it last night when I was standing in that hallway."
David was quiet.
"She's scared," Elena said.
"That message is what scared looks like when it's wearing a confident voice."
He picked up the phone and forwarded the message to Graham.
Then he typed back to Nicole: *All communication goes through my solicitor from this point.
His number is below.*
He sent it.
Put the phone down.
Nicole's reply came in forty seconds.
*You're making a mistake.
I'm trying to help you.*
David didn't respond.
Graham called back within the hour.
He had already received the forwarded message.
"She's fishing," Graham said.
"If she had anything substantive, her first move would have been to her own solicitor, not a text message to you.
This is a pressure tactic.
Ignore it and let me handle any formal contact from her side."
"Understood."
"My colleague can be there by two o'clock.
Have the originals ready."
Graham's colleague was a woman named Patricia — compact, precise, with reading glasses she removed and replaced several times while working through Elena's folder and the bank transfer records.
At one point she looked up and said, simply, "This is thorough."
"Thank you," Elena said.
"I'm not complimenting you.
I'm noting it for the record." But there was something in her expression that was not entirely without warmth.
By four o'clock, Patricia had made three phone calls and drafted a preliminary report.
By five, the account Nicole had opened in David's name had been flagged with the relevant financial authority.
By six, Nicole's own solicitor — a man named Holt, whom Graham knew — had called to request a meeting.
Graham took the call in David's study and came out fifteen minutes later.
"Holt wants to negotiate," he said.
"Nicole is prepared to provide full documentation of the financial transfers in exchange for David not pursuing criminal charges."
David looked at him.
"She wants to trade."
"She wants to limit her exposure."
"What does that mean for Daniel Marsh's records?"
"It means she knows his records and hers tell the same story.
She wants to control which version reaches the authorities first." Graham sat down.
"My advice is to decline.
We already have Elena's records.
Patricia has begun the formal process.
Nicole negotiating now is confirmation that what we have is sufficient."
David looked at Elena.
"It's your decision," she said.
"What would you do?"
She thought about it honestly.
"I'd let the process run.
Not out of anger.
Because Marcus deserves a father who's legally recognized.
Because the account in your name needs to be on record.
Because if you negotiate it away now, she'll use that against you in six months when she needs leverage again." Elena paused.
"She doesn't stop, David.
She recalibrates."
He turned back to Graham.
"Decline."
Graham nodded and went back to the study.
Nicole's next message arrived at seven-fifteen.
It was not sent to David.
It was sent to Elena.
*You think you've won.
You haven't.
I know what you want and you're not going to get it.
David will see through you eventually.
He always does.*
Elena read it once.
Then she forwarded it to Graham, added it to the folder documentation Carla was maintaining, and put her phone in her pocket.
Lily came downstairs in her pajamas and stood in the kitchen doorway.
"Is it dinnertime?"
"Past dinnertime," Elena said.
"I'm sorry, bug.
Come here."
She made eggs and toast while Lily sat on the counter and told her about the beetle she had found in the garden, which she had named Gerald and relocated to a safer spot near the hedge.
David sat at the table and listened.
At some point he started to smile — a real one, quiet and unguarded.
Lily noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing," he said.
"Gerald sounds like a very lucky beetle."
Lily considered this seriously.
"He was in a dangerous spot," she said.
"Someone had to move him."
She looked at her mother.
Elena looked back at her.
May you like
"Yes," Elena said.
"Someone did."
