Chapter 34 — Lila Wants a Deal
Lila chose the café herself, which told me she still believed lighting could save her.
It was the sort of place that served bitter coffee in tiny cups and charged extra for the illusion of privacy. Marble tables.
Brass lamps.
Waiters trained not to notice expensive panic. Marcus refused to let me go alone. So he sat two tables away, reading a newspaper he clearly despised, while his associate waited outside with the car running.
Lila arrived ten minutes late.
Power move. Or mascara repair.
With Lila, it was difficult to know where vanity ended and strategy began. She removed her gloves finger by finger before sitting.
“You look different,” she said. “You look tired.”
Her mouth tightened.
Good. Tired was the first honest thing about her. “I assume your lawyer is nearby.”
“I assume yours is not.”
She glanced towards Marcus but did not recognise him. That was another advantage of old legal families. They did not need billboards.
Lila placed a small black memory drive on the table between us.
Not close enough for me to take. Close enough for me to want.
“I have records,” she said.
“You told Victor that yesterday.” Her eyes flicked up. “Were you listening?”
“People shout louder than they think.”
She leaned back. “I underestimated you.” “No. You did what people like you do. You mistook quiet for empty.”
For a moment, she looked almost amused.
Then fear returned. “I want protection.” “From Victor?”
“From all of them.”
“All of them includes Ryan.” Her face hardened. “Ryan is loyal to whoever holds the knife closest to his throat.”
“I know.”
“You do not know everything.” She tapped the drive. “Hotel photographs. Transfer notes. Messages from Victor telling me which approvals to route through Ryan. Audio of Ryan saying he would sign anything if Victor guaranteed his bonus.”
My coffee went cold.
I did not touch the drive. Marcus had trained me for this. Never buy evidence with promises. Never accept material in a café. Never let desperation write your agreement.
“Why give this to me?”
“I am not giving it to you. I am trading.” “For what?”
“A written undertaking. Cooperation credit. My own counsel present before I disclose the rest.”
“I cannot give you immunity.” “I did not ask you to.”
“You asked not to be thrown under the bus first.”
“I asked not to be thrown under a bus driven by your revenge.” I looked at her then.
Really looked. Not at the hair, the coat, the polish, the performance.
At the woman underneath, calculating whether ruin hurt less if she chose the direction. “This is not revenge,” I said.
She laughed once. “Please. Do not insult us both.”
“Revenge would be leaking everything to the press before breakfast. This is evidence.” “That is a very elegant dress for evidence.”
“I learned from elegant criminals.”
Her eyes flashed. There she was. Proud enough to be dangerous. Scared enough to be useful.
My phone vibrated.
Marcus: Do not touch drive. Formal channel only. I looked at Lila. “Your solicitor sends it to mine. Chain of custody. Written statement. No side deals.”
“I need something now.”
“No. You need to stop making unrecorded exchanges in cafés.” She stared at me. “You really are a Hart.”
“You are only just noticing?”
Lila’s face shifted. Then she said the sentence that turned the morning colder.
“Victor has a second evidence package.”
I did not move. “Where?” “Not in the house.”
Marcus lowered his newspaper.
Lila noticed. This time, she recognised danger. She slid the drive back into her handbag. “Tell your lawyer to move quickly.”
At the door, she turned. “And Eleanor?”
“Yes?” “If Victor opens that package before you do, Diana does not survive the hearing.”
Then she left, taking the drive and half the room’s oxygen with her.