“No. You planned a night you couldn’t pay for. I changed PINs on accounts that belonged to me.”
“You knew I still had the card.”
“And you knew it wasn’t yours.”
His face flushed dark red.
My father stepped into my office behind me, carrying a folder and two coffees. He had driven in before sunrise, saying only, “People who threaten you at night often explain themselves by morning.”
He set the folder on my desk and nodded toward the monitor. “Let him keep talking.”
Daniel did.
“You think that club will choose you over me?” he snapped. “I know people there.”
My father’s eyebrows rose.
I leaned toward the microphone. “Caroline Mercer sent our attorney the security footage at six this morning. She also sent the signed authorization slip.”
Daniel stopped moving.
There it was. The first real crack.
