“I’m not going to touch you,” Victor said, raising both hands. I didn’t call you today to ask you for anything. I called you because I found something worse.
Maya pressed the strap of her bag, ready to run, scream or break right there if he took a step further.
“If this is another deal, Mr. Sloan, I’d rather lose my job than listen to him again.
Victor looked down, and for the first time since she knew him, he looked more like a man than a statue.
“I don’t deserve to believe me,” he said. But his brother didn’t have any accident. My company was involved.
Maya took several seconds to understand the phrase. When he did, the ground seemed to bow under his worn-out shoes.
“What did he say?”
Victor took a tablet from his desk and left it in front of her, as if he were delivering a loaded gun.
A Sloan & Associates truck crossed in red. The internal report was altered before arriving at the police.
Maya looked at the screen. There was Daniel’s motorcycle, small, helpless, swallowed by the white lights of a black truck.
The image showed no blood or screaming, but Maya felt her entire body remember the hospital again.
“No,” she whispered. Doctors said he was an unknown driver. Police said there were no cameras.
Victor did not take his eyes away from her. —The police received an edited copy. I got the original last night.
Maya took a step back, with a broken laugh coming out of her mouth, because horror is sometimes disguised as disbelief.
“Then you knew that your company almost killed my brother and still made me pay you with my dignity.
The phrase hit him harder than any slap. Victor closed his eyes, but did not try to defend himself.
I didn’t know that night. That doesn’t acquit me. Just change the kind of monster I was.
Maya looked at him with a dangerous calm. “Don’t use fancy words to dirty less than you did.
Victor nodded slowly, as if every word of her was a deserved sentence.
“He’s right. I saw a desperate young woman and I had enough power to help her without humiliating her. I chose to humiliate her.
The silence was heavy, full of everything that money usually buys so that no one names it.
“Why did he really call me?” Maya asked. Because men like you don’t confess by remorse. They confess when they fear losing something.
Victor took a sealed folder from the drawer and pushed it on the table.
My chief financial officer wants to blame you for extortion. He says he seduced the CEO to pay a bill.
Maya felt nauseous. The office air smelled of expensive leather, dark coffee and a carefully scented threat.
“And what do you want?” Sign another lie to save your reputation?
I want you to have the test before they destroy it,” Victor said. And I want to testify against my own meeting.
