Page 114 of Due Diligence

He had the audacity to roll his eyes. “Don’t be such a little bitch about it. I just worked with a data firm in Copenhagen that—”

“Shut the fuck up,” I hissed, and I repeated it two more times as I pulled my backpack over my shoulder. “Don’t contact me again.”

“Don’t do that,” he ordered as he followed me to the front door. “This isn’t at all what you think it is.”

“What is it?” I demanded, pausing with my hand on the doorknob. “Tell me how the hell I’m supposed to be okay withthis, when wepromisedusers we would never, ever sell their data?”

“It’s not asale, it’s a partnership,” he tried to say. “It’s a partnership with a data broker that can provide us with billions of different user personas to better market our product.”

I paused, taking in the way Alex was standing there in his stupid workout clothes, holding up both hands like he was trying to convince me to buy something as banal as an air fryer. “If it’s a partnership toourbenefit, why are we getting paid? Have you even considered that? Why wouldn’t we be the ones paying this firm in Copenhagen?”

Alex hesitated, but he was quick to catch his footing. “I mean, our data is valuable—”

Before he could embarrass himself, I shook my head. “Look, every internet and tech company sells user data—this is a fact. But we’re not a regular company. We’re a fintech company, Alex. Financial technology—and we are bound by the same fucking federal regulatory guidelines for consumer protection as financial institutions and credit bureaus. If we sell data, it’s probably afelony.”

The way he froze made my nausea even more acute. He clearly hadn’t thought about this the right way at all—one of the pitfalls of me being the mitochondria of the company.

“Don’t contact me again, not until we get lawyers involved,” I warned as I turned to leave once again.

“Fucking hell, Marcus, are you going to sue me?”

I pulled my face into a frown. “Are you joking? This is not a problem between friends,buddy. This is the end of our careers. This is the end of Libra. You can kiss the deal with Davenport-Ridgeway goodbye, but really that’s the least of our problems.”

“Wait,” he pleaded. “Can we talk about this more? You’re not going to tell anyone yet, are you?”

At that moment, all I could do was breathe out. I shook my head. “I need to think,” I responded. “Just stay out of my way and don’t ruin my fucking life—just for once, Alex.”

When I left and slammed the door behind me, he didn’t follow.

Chapter 31: Cass

“Hey, Cass, I’m going to make myself some midnight pancakes. Do you want any?” Bethany poked her head into my bedroom. “Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re watchingPsychoagain.”

“‘We all go a little mad sometimes.’” I grinned at her.

Bethany hesitated and her eyebrows began to knot together. “Sorry, what?”

“It’s a line from the movie,” I explained, gesturing at my laptop. “I’m quoting Norman Bates.”

“On one hand, that’s reassuring because otherwise, whatever you were saying was just plain creepy. But on the other hand, I would say most people would just pick therapy instead of watching movies about a guy who murders people in the shower.”

I hit the spacebar so the movie resumed playing. “You know, if you just sat down and watched it with me one day, you would know the movie is so much more than that.”

She chuckled. “Oh, so I’m being unfair? There’s more to Norman Bates than just being a guy who peeps on women and kills them when they’re vulnerable?”

“Honestly? Yeah.”

“So…so, no midnight pancakes?”

“I’m good.”

Bethany tilted her head to the side as she lingered in my doorway, a gentle smirk forming on her lips. Once again, I paused the movie and looked up at her.

“What? Why are you looking at me like I’m your kindergartener and I just learned to play ‘hot cross buns’ on the recorder?” I asked.

“Haven’t seen you here in a while. Just thought you might be at that new guy’s place again tonight.”

“Nope, I’m here.”

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