Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO KNEW MY SECRETS
Daniel appeared outside my apartment that evening.
I was carrying groceries upstairs when I saw him.
He stood beside my door.
Hands in his pockets.
Expression tense.
“Emma.”
I stopped.
“What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.”
I shifted the grocery bag.
“No, we don't.”
He stepped closer.
“Please.”
I looked at him.
For eleven months, I'd imagined what it would feel like if Daniel finally chose me.
Now I wondered how I'd ever mistaken his attention for love.
He swallowed.
“Last night wasn't what you think.”
I laughed.
“Really?”
“Madeline and I—”
“Are engaged.”
He flinched.
I continued.
“You stood in front of three hundred people and chose her.”
Daniel looked away.
“It was complicated.”
I stared.
“Was kissing me complicated?”
He said nothing.
“Were the late-night calls complicated?”
Still nothing.
I shook my head.
“Go home, Daniel.”
He caught my wrist.
Not hard.
But enough to stop me.
“Emma, listen.”
I pulled away.
“Don't touch me.”
His expression changed.
“Mercer is dangerous.”
I stared.
“So are people who lie.”
Daniel looked down.
Then whispered:
“You don't understand what you're involved in.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
He glanced toward the stairs.
“Grant knows about the payroll records.”
“I know.”
Daniel stared.
“He's furious.”
“Then he should stop committing fraud.”
Daniel went pale.
“Lower your voice.”
I laughed.
“Why? Are the walls on his payroll too?”
He didn't smile.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
“Emma, if you keep digging, someone could get hurt.”
I stared.
“Is that a threat?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
He swallowed.
“A warning.”
I looked at him.
“Did you know about the account?”
Daniel hesitated.
That was enough.
I stepped backward.
“Oh my God.”
“Emma—”
“You knew.”
His face twisted.
“I didn't know everything.”
“But you knew enough.”
I opened my apartment door.
“Leave.”
He stared at me.
Then said quietly:
“Mercer won't protect you forever.”
I looked back.
“I didn't ask him to.”
I shut the door.
Locked it.
And stood there shaking.
Then I called Rebecca Hayes.
“Ms. Hayes?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Emma Parker.”
A pause.
“Nathaniel told me you might call.”
I swallowed.
“I think someone is trying to frame me.”
May you like
Rebecca's voice became firm.
“Then let's make sure they don't succeed.”
