Page 47 of Cruel Hero

“Daniel here.”

“It’s Adrien.”

There’s a pause, heavy with tension. “What do you want?”

I don’t waste time. “I’ll need you in Mexico City next week. The flight tickets and a few thousand dollars in cash will be waiting for you in your hotel room tomorrow. I trust you still remember how to handle yourself in situations like this.”

I can almost picture Daniel’s face, his brow furrowed in that familiar way it does when he’s caught off guard.

“I still didn’t hear a sorry,” Daniel says. “Fuck off, Adrien.”

“That’s not very polite.”

“I don’t care. I want nothing to do with you, and I want nothing to do with this job. Let Luis handle it from now on.”

I glance over at Diane and Matteo, who are watching me from across the room. They can’t hear Daniel’s side of the conversation, but the tension in my posture must be telling.

“Tell me, Daniel.” I rise from my chair and the leather creaks under my weight. “What are you planning to do tonight or tomorrow? Drink? Screw around? Get high?”

I can hear Daniel grinding his teeth.

Good. I’ve hit a nerve.

“You’ve been doing that for the past few weeks,” I continue. “Is that how you want to spend your life? Dulling your mind and wasting your time?”

It’s a low blow, and I know it. Daniel has always had his vices, but he’s never let them interfere with work before.

When Daniel speaks, his voice is tight with barely restrained anger. “Why do you even care?”

“I don’t care, not really,” I lie. Maintaining the appearance of a cold, calculating businessman is easier this way. “But I trust you enough to offer you this opportunity if you want it. Do you want it?”

The question lingers between us like a lifeline thrown into choppy waters. I hold my breath, waiting for Daniel to grab onto it or let it slip away.

Silence fills the phone line, long and unyielding. My mind races, replaying every misstep, every harsh word that led us to this moment.

I want to say more, to bridge the chasm between us, but I bite my tongue. This is Daniel’s choice now. I’ve extended the olive branch; it’s up to him whether to take it or snap it in two.

I turn away from the desk. The Empire Heights skyline stretches before me, a sea of glass and steel reaching toward the sky.

My reflection stares back at me. I can see the tension in my jaw, the worry lines etched around my eyes.

Behind me, I can sense Diane and Matteo watching, their silence heavy with expectation. They’re waiting, just as I am, for Daniel’s response. I wonder what they see when they look at me. Do they see the unflappable leader, or do they catch glimpses of the doubt that gnaws at my insides?

The sound of Daniel’s breathing fills my ear, ragged and uneven. “Fine. I’ll fly to Mexico City and meet you there.”

I exhale slowly. “Good. I’ll see you then.”

As I end the call, I turn back to face Diane and Matteo. Their expressions are a study in contrast—Diane’s knowing smirk, Matteo’s raised eyebrow.

“He’s in,” I announce, handing Diane her phone. “Now we can move forward with the plan.”

Diane slips her phone back into her pocket and nods. “You’re lucky he still has a soft spot for you.”

I glance at my watch. “Fortunate or not, we’ve got things to do. Let’s get moving because I intend to leave the office in two hours.”

I have one final evening with Tiffany before my departure, and I intend to make the most of every second.

Chapter 20

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