Chapter 13 - The Vances' Last Card
Harlan Vance had one asset left that hadn't been frozen, seized, or subpoenaed: information. Desperate and cornered, he arranged a private meeting — not with Royce, but with Renata, whose name had reached him through a disgraced former business partner.
"I hear you're interested in Calloway's blind spots," Harlan said, sliding into the booth of a dim, forgettable diner far from anywhere either of them belonged.
Renata studied him with faint distaste. "You look like a man who's already lost everything."
"I have nothing left to lose," Harlan said. "Which makes me useful. I know things about the girl. Della Marsh. Things Calloway doesn't know I know."
Renata's eyebrow lifted, the first genuine flicker of interest crossing her face. "I'm listening."
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"Seven years ago, the night she supposedly 'saved' him," Harlan said, leaning in, "she wasn't alone in that alley. There was someone else there. Someone who never came forward. And I know exactly where to find him."
For the first time since the collapse of his empire, Harlan Vance allowed himself a small, cruel smile. He didn't know yet if this information would rebuild his fortune — but he knew, with the certainty of a drowning man grasping driftwood, that it would hurt Royce Calloway. And right now, that felt like enough.
