Regret, perhaps. Or recognition. You said you have evidence? Ethan asked Jessica, ignoring James’s attempt to implicate him.
I do. Not here, obviously. It’s in a safe place.
Alleged evidence, James corrected. Which conveniently can’t be produced right now. I don’t need to produce it right now, Jessica replied evenly.
Just explain what it contains. The original Nortec reports. Emails directing analysts to alter data.
The access log showing my credentials being used while I was demonstrably elsewhere. She turned to Ethan. Do you want to know how deep it goes? How many other acquisitions were based on fraudulent data? She’s lying, James insisted, a hint of desperation entering his voice.
Ethan, we’ve been friends for fifteen years. Partners. I’ve stood by you through everything.
Are you really going to throw that away based on the word of this—this waitress? Manager, Jessica corrected automatically. Ethan remained silent, weighing, evaluating. Jessica could almost see the calculations happening behind his eyes.
Loyalty versus truth. Friendship versus integrity. The empire he’d built versus the foundation it stood on.
Think about what you’re doing, James warned. If she takes this public, it won’t just be me who falls. Mitchell Innovations has been involved in every major deal Harrington Capital has structured for the past decade.
Your reputation. Your company. Stop.
Ethan’s voice was quiet, but final. You’re making my decision easier with every word, James. Eleanor moved to stand beside Jessica, placing a supportive hand on her arm.
The simple gesture of solidarity brought unexpected tears to Jessica’s eyes. James looked between them in disbelief. You can’t be serious.
Ethan, everything we’ve built—was built on fraud, apparently. Ethan’s face had hardened to granite. Get out.
You’ll regret this, James hissed. When your stock plummets and the lawsuits start— I said get out. Ethan stepped forward, his heightened presence suddenly intimidating.
Now, before I call the authorities and have this conversation in front of witnesses with badges. For one tense moment, it seemed James might refuse. Then, with deliberate calm, he straightened his coat.
This isn’t over, he said quietly. Not by a long shot. After James stormed out, the diner fell into heavy silence.
Jessica realized she was trembling. Adrenaline and relief and lingering fear coursing through her veins. I should check if he’s actually left, she murmured, needing a moment alone to compose herself.
Let him go, Ethan replied, still watching the door. We have bigger concerns now. Eleanor squeezed Jessica’s arm gently.
I’ll make us some tea. This seems like a conversation that needs tea. When Eleanor had bustled off to the kitchen, Ethan finally turned to face Jessica.
His expression was unreadable. You’ve had this evidence for three years, he said. Why didn’t you use it? Jessica sank into a booth, suddenly exhausted.
I tried. No one would listen. James had thoroughly discredited me, and Harrington Capital had resources I couldn’t match.
Then there were the threats. What threats? At first, just professional ones, then more. Personal.
She looked down at her hands. One night, someone broke into my apartment. Nothing was taken, but my files were clearly searched.
The next day, I received a photo of my parents’ graves with a message. Some things should stay buried. Ethan’s jaw tightened.
James? I never found proof, but the timing was. Persuasive. She looked up, meeting his eyes.
So I left. Started over. Tried to build a quiet life where no one from that world would find me.
Until tonight, Ethan said softly. Until tonight, she agreed. He slid into the booth across from her.
I need to see this evidence. Why? So Mitchell Innovations can contain the damage? The bitterness in her voice was unmistakable. So I can do the right thing, Ethan corrected quietly.
Jessica studied his face, looking for deception. And what is the right thing, in your estimation? I don’t know yet. His honesty was disarming.
But burying the truth isn’t it. Eleanor returned with three mugs of tea, sliding one to each of them before joining Ethan on his side of the booth. So, she said briskly, my son’s business partner is a criminal, and the lovely young woman who saved me from freezing to death is his whistleblower.
What are we going to do about it? The unexpected framing of their situation, so practical, so matter-of-fact, startled a laugh from Jessica. The sound surprised her. She couldn’t remember the last time she genuinely laughed.
Mother? Ethan sighed, though the corner of his mouth twitched. What, am I wrong? Eleanor sipped her tea. I may be old, Ethan, but I’m not blind.
Or stupid. No one who’s met you would ever make that mistake, Jessica said, smiling despite herself. Then stop dancing around each other and make a plan.
Eleanor set down her mug with finality. Jessica has evidence. Ethan has influence.
Between you, you can fix this mess. It’s not that simple, Ethan began. It never is, Eleanor agreed.
But doing the right thing rarely is. Jessica watched as Ethan’s expression softened, looking at his mother. For all their estrangement, the bond between them was evident.
A shared moral clarity that cut through complications. The evidence is in a safe deposit box, Jessica said after a moment. In Boston, Ethan nodded…
