Chapter 14 - The Betrayal at My Own Desk
Harold Finch had been my mentor.
He brought cupcakes on birthdays.
He recommended me for promotions.
He listened when I complained about Nolan.
Sometimes he even suggested I be more patient with him.
Now I understood why.
I went to my office with federal agents already waiting downstairs.
Not because I trusted them.
Because Isabella had contacted an investigator named Agent Maya Torres.
She had been following the redevelopment money for fourteen months.
Torres didn’t treat me as innocent automatically.
I respected that.
“Give me reasons to believe you.”
So I did.
Every text.
Every forged signature.
Every payment.
Every recording.
Dante stayed away.
This part needed to belong to me.
Harold looked genuinely happy when I walked into his office.
“Evelyn.”
“I was worried.”
“About me?”
“Of course.”
I placed my phone recording-side down.
“Nolan says hello.”
His expression flickered.
Just once.
“Have you spoken to him?”
“No.”
“Then why would you say that?”
“Because I wanted to see your face.”
Harold slowly sat down.
I closed the door.
“How long?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“How long have you been selling information about me?”
His eyes went cold.
The mentor disappeared.
“Be careful.”
There it was.
The tone Nolan used.
A warning disguised as advice.
“I’ve spent two years being careful.”
I smiled.
“I’m trying something else.”
Harold leaned back.
“You were supposed to sign documents.”
“You were supposed to stay with Nolan.”
“You were supposed to keep living your very comfortable little life.”
“He hurt me.”
“That was unfortunate.”
Unfortunate.
Not shocking.
Not unbelievable.
Unfortunate.
He knew.
I almost lost control.
Instead, I asked the important question.
“What does Carter Termination mean?”
Harold smiled.
“It means your usefulness ended when you ran to Moretti.”
A movement appeared behind the glass wall.
Torres.
Listening.
Harold continued.
“You became a liability.”
“What were you going to do?”
His smile disappeared when the office door opened.
Agent Torres entered.
“Harold Finch.”
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”
For one beautiful second, he looked confused.
Then furious.
He pointed at me.
“You have no idea what you’ve done.”
Torres handcuffed him.
As she led him away, Harold turned back.
“Nolan isn’t running.”
“He’s coming for the only person who can clear his name.”
I stared at him.
“Me?”
Harold laughed.
“No.”
May you like
“Dante.”
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