Ch.12: The Secret Pact

The holding cell smelled of bleach and despair. I sat on the metal stool, my hands shackled to the table, the cold steel biting into my wrists. I wasn't here as a lawyer anymore. I was here as a suspect.

"Twenty minutes," the guard grunted, unlocking the heavy door. "Make it quick."

Julian Vane walked in. He wasn't wearing his suit. He was in orange, the same as the murderers and thieves down the hall. But he wore it like it was bespoke silk.

He sat down opposite me. He looked at my shackles.

"A fall from grace," he said softly.

"Save the poetry," I snapped. "Sterling has me. He has the receipt. He has the money trail. I'm going to be indicted for capital murder by morning."

"And yet," Julian said, leaning forward, "you're here. Why did Halloway grant you a consultation?"

"Because I'm still your counsel of record," I whispered. "Until the indictment is filed, I have attorney-client privilege. It's the only reason I'm not in general population right now."

I looked up at the camera in the corner of the room. A red light blinked steadily.

"They're listening," I said. "Every word. Sterling is probably watching the feed right now, eating popcorn."

Julian followed my gaze to the camera. He smiled.

"Let them listen."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tablet. It wasn't the standard-issue legal pad. It was a sleek, black slate with no branding.

"Where did you get that?" I hissed.

"I have friends in low places," he said. "The guard outside? His daughter needed a heart transplant. I paid for it three years ago."

He slid the tablet across the table. It was on, but the screen was black.

"It's air-gapped," he said. "No Wi-Fi. No Bluetooth. No signal for them to jam or intercept. Just a local text editor."

He tapped the screen. A cursor blinked.

**TYPE HERE.**

I looked at the camera again. The red light was still blinking. The microphone was still recording.

"So we talk about the weather," Julian said aloud, his voice casual. "Tell me, Harper, how is the rain tonight?"

He pushed the tablet closer to me.

I understood. We speak nonsense for the microphones. We speak the truth on the screen.

I typed: *I HAVE THE LOGS. I HAVE PROOF STERLING FORGED MY SIGNATURE.*

Julian watched my fingers. He nodded, then typed his response.

**WHERE IS THE SHARD?**

*SAFE. HIDDEN.*

**GOOD. BUT IT'S NOT ENOUGH. THE LOGS PROVE HE FRAMED YOU, BUT THEY DON'T PROVE HE KILLED LIAM.**

*I SAW THE VIDEO. MIA WAS THERE. SHE HELPED THEM.*

Julian's fingers flew across the glass.

**SHE IS THE WEAK LINK. IF WE BREAK HER, WE BREAK STERLING.**

"The rain is relentless," I said aloud, my voice trembling slightly. "It never stops in this city."

"It washes the streets clean," Julian replied.

I typed: *HOW DO WE BREAK HER? SHE'S GONE. HIDDEN.*

**SHE'S NOT HIDDEN. SHE'S AT THE GALA TOMORROW NIGHT. THE VANE GLOBAL CHARITY BALL.**

I stared at him. *THE GALA?*

**STERLING IS HOSTING IT IN MY ABSENCE. HE'S PARADING HER AROUND AS THE GRIEVING SISTER. THE NEW FACE OF THE VICTIM'S FUND.**

My stomach turned. They were using her. They were using my brother's death to raise money for the very people who killed him.

*I CAN'T GET TO HER. I'M IN CHAINS.*

Julian looked at me. His eyes were intense, burning with a cold fire.

**YOU WON'T BE IN CHAINS TOMORROW.**

*WHAT DO YOU MEAN?*

**I BOUGHT YOUR DEBT, HARPER. BUT I ALSO BOUGHT SOMETHING ELSE.**

He typed a series of numbers. It looked like a bank routing code.

**YOUR BAIL.**

I looked up at him, shock freezing the air in my lungs.

"Bail hasn't even been set," I whispered aloud, forgetting the game.

"It will be," Julian said, his voice dropping. "At the arraignment tomorrow morning. Sterling will ask for no bail. Halloway will grant it, but he'll set it at five million credits just to look impartial. He thinks you can't pay it."

He tapped the screen.

**THE MONEY IS ALREADY IN AN ESCROW ACCOUNT IN YOUR NAME. THE MOMENT THE GAVEL DROPS, YOU WALK.**

I stared at the tablet. Five million credits. He was betting everything on me.

*WHY?* I typed.

**BECAUSE YOU HAVE THE SHARD. AND BECAUSE YOU ARE GOING TO CRASH THAT GALA.**

*AND DO WHAT?*

**YOU ARE GOING TO WALK UP TO YOUR SISTER IN FRONT of 500 CAMERAS. AND YOU ARE GOING TO PLAY THE VIDEO.**

I imagined it. The ballroom. The champagne. The lies. And then, the truth, projected on the massive screens for the world to see.

It would destroy her. It would destroy everything.

*IT WILL KILL HER,* I typed. *STERLING WILL KILL HER BEFORE HE LETS HER TALK.*

**NOT IF WE KILL HIM FIRST.**

Julian took the tablet back. He deleted the text. The screen went black.

He looked at me.

"We have a deal, Harper," he said aloud. "I save you. You save me."

"And Sterling?" I asked.

"Sterling burns."

He held out his hand. It wasn't a handshake. It was a binding ritual.

I reached out, my shackles clanking against the table. I took his hand. His grip was strong, warm, alive.

"Deal," I said.

He leaned in close, his face inches from mine.

"Get some sleep, Counselor. Tomorrow, we go to war."

I watched him leave. The guard locked the door. I was alone again.

But I wasn't afraid.

I looked at the empty tablet on the table. The words were gone, but the pact remained.

I wasn't a victim anymore. I was an assassin. And tomorrow night, I was going to a party.