He freezes and pales, then tries to brazen it out. “I don’t know what you think you have on me, but—”
He stops talking when I slap the flash drive I brought with me on his desk. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg, counsellor. You can keep that copy. I have tons more where that came from. So does my attorney.”
He stares at it for a long minute, jaw tight. I fold my arms and wait him out. Eventually, he reaches for it, his hand trembling as he picks it up and inserts it into his laptop.
A few clicks and he inhales sharply.
“Yes, counsellor. You’re looking at testimony from four people who said they were paid to look the other way even though they knew you and your team were burying evidence.”
He scrolls some more, then swallows nervously. “This…this won’t hold up in court.”
“That’s the weird thing about our fucked up justice system. I don’t need it to. The fact is that you knowingly buried evidence. That fact alone will end your career when it comes out. Every case you ever touched will be tainted. No higher office for you. And you’ll be surprised how many people will co-operate just so your stink won’t rub off on them. And if that doesn’t work”—I nudge my chin at the screen—“check out the last folder. The final kicker of a surprise is right there,” I taunt with long-suppressed relish.
He hesitates for several seconds, justifiably terrified of what he’ll find. When he does, his jaw clenches and he runs his hand over his mouth.
“That’s right. My PI eventually tracked down the CCTV footage. It cost me a pretty penny but”—I shrug—“what’s a few hundred thousand in exchange for my freedom?And the fucking truth?” I bellow that part, years of bitter fury erupting from me.
He jumps in his seat and his eyes dart around the room before meeting mine. “So you came here to blackmail me.” It’s not a question. It’s a resigned statement of fact.
“You can look at it that way if you want. But I’m not surprised a man like you chooses not to see this as a chance to right a wrong.”
He lets out a weary, sour laugh. “You’re delusional if you think right and wrong matters in politics.”
“This isn’t politics. This is myfucking life. And it fucking matters to me. So unless you go on public record to fix this, you can kiss goodbye to what’s left of your pathetic ambitions.”
He slams his hands on his desk, a last-ditch effort maybe to salvage a hopeless situation.
“Who the hell do you think you are? Thinking you can walk into my house and…” He waves his hands out the door. “Violate my daughter, then makes demands?”
I smile and relish my response. “It looks like there are a lot of things I can do in your house, counsellor. But sure, keep acting out. I’m sure CNN would love to hear my side of the story. And just so we’re clear, there was no violation involved, counsellor. It was thoroughly consensual.”
Maybe a part of me wants him to know that I’ve taken his daughter, just as I’m about to take his career.
I let a mirthless smile play at my lips. “Now this is the point where you ask how high when I say jump. Convince me why I shouldn’t end you where you fucking sit.”
The pain gasp behind me hollows my insides.