Chapter 4: The Confrontation
The inevitability of the collapse reached a boiling point on a rainy Tuesday in late winter. Andrew walked into my office unannounced. He looked haggard; the expensive suit he wore seemed to hang off a frame thinned by chronic stress.
"Natalie, please," he began, his voice lacking its former venom. "If you turn over those final documents to the investigators, I’m done. My career, my reputation—everything will be over."
I didn't look up from my desk. "You told me I was a homeless nobody, Andrew. You stripped everything I had. Did you ever wonder if you were building your life on stolen time?"
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"I can give you back the house," he offered, desperation leaking into his tone. "I can give you double the settlement. Just stop this."
I finally looked up, meeting his gaze with a level of calm that clearly terrified him. "The house was just walls, Andrew. The money was just currency. You tried to steal my future. You don't buy that back." I pressed the intercom button. "Security, please escort Mr. Collins out of the building. And notify the lead investigator on the federal case that he is currently tampering with a witness."
