Chapter 22 The Price of Silence
"I’m not leaving until we have an agreement," Joseph said. His voice was steadier now, fueled by the sickening power he thought he held.
"You both look so shocked. Did you really think you could play house with a boy and not have the bill come due?"
Sarah leaned her back against the wall. The cool plaster offered no support; her legs felt like they were made of water.
"What do you want, Joseph? Just say it."
"I want out," Joseph said, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light.
"I want a massive payout. I want enough to settle my affairs and leave this city for good. You give me a lump sum—something that reflects the true value of my share of the company—and I disappear. These photos disappear with me."
"And if I don't?" Sarah asked, her voice a fragile thread in the dark.
"Then I go to Mark," Joseph replied with a callous shrug.
"I show him exactly what his mother does while he’s out. I show him how his best friend has been using him as a back door into his mother’s bed. And after that, I go to the press. I wonder what the Veridian Garden people will think of their 'Interior Decorator of the Year' when they see her caught in a scandal with a college kid."
The mention of the contract made Sarah’s stomach flip. Everything she had worked for—her reputation, her company’s future, her son’s respect—was sitting in Joseph’s sweaty, desperate palm.
"You’re a monster," she whispered.
"I’m a man who was cheated in a divorce," Joseph countered. "I’m just taking what’s mine."
Surprisingly, Alex hadn't moved. He hadn't lunged for the photo or shouted. He remained leaning against the doorframe of the living room, a chilling, relaxed smile on his face. He looked almost amused, as if Joseph were a child playing a game he didn't understand.
"A payout," Alex mused. His voice was low and smooth, cutting through the tension like a blade. "That’s a big word for a man who can’t even pay his bar tab at the club."
Joseph stiffened, his sneer faltering. "What did you say?"
"I’ve seen you around, Joseph," Alex said, stepping forward. He moved with a slow, predatory grace, circling Joseph like a shark in shallow water.
"You’ve been talking to some people. Some people who aren't as patient as Sarah. I know about the 'hidden' debts. I know about the money you borrowed from the guys who don't care about legal settlements. They just care about interest rates and broken bones."
Joseph’s face went pale. The glossy photo shook in his hand. "You don't know anything."
"I know that if you go to the press, you lose your leverage," Alex continued, his smile never reaching his dark eyes.
"And once Sarah’s reputation is gone, she won't have the money to pay you anyway. You’re holding a live grenade, Joseph. If you pull the pin, we all blow up. But you’ll be the one standing closest to it."
Sarah watched them, her head spinning. Alex knew things she didn't—things Joseph had hidden from everyone. He had been digging into Joseph’s life just as deeply as Joseph had been digging into hers.
"Threats go both ways," Alex whispered, stopping just inches from Joseph. He was much taller, his bare, damp chest casting a long shadow over the older man.
"You have photos? That’s cute. I have names. I have account numbers. I know exactly who you owe and how much time you have left before they stop asking nicely."
Joseph looked between them, his confidence wavering. He looked at Sarah, hoping for a sign of the old weakness he used to exploit, but she was watching Alex with a mixture of horror and awe.
"Five hundred thousand," Joseph barked, trying to regain his footing.
"That’s the price for the original files and my silence. You have forty-eight hours."
"You’ll get nothing but a one-way ticket to a courtroom if you show those to anyone," Alex said. He reached out and tapped the photo Joseph was holding, a gesture of pure dominance.
"Now, get out of this house. You’re upsetting Sarah, and I’m starting to lose my patience."
There was something in Alex’s tone—a jagged, lethal edge—that finally broke Joseph’s resolve. He saw the intent in the younger man’s eyes and realized that no amount of money was worth the risk of staying another minute. Joseph turned toward the door, his movements frantic and jerky.
"Forty-eight hours, Sarah!" Joseph yelled, his hand fumbling for the doorknob.
"Think about Mark! Think about your precious company!"
Joseph yanked the door open, ready to vanish into the night, but he stopped dead.
The sound of tires crunching on gravel filled the foyer. Bright headlights swept across the front of the house, illuminating the three of them like actors on a stage. The engine cut off, and the distinct thud of car doors closing echoed through the quiet street.
Sarah’s heart stopped. She knew that sound.
"It’s Mark," she whispered, her voice full of pure, cold panic. "He’s home."
"What?" Joseph hissed, frozen in the doorway, the incriminating photo still held in his hand.
Sarah ran to the narrow window beside the door, pulling the curtain back just an inch.
"Oh no... Stacy is with him. She must have hitched a ride after the gym."
"Alex, get back!" Sarah gasped, but there was nowhere to go.
The key was already turning in the lock. The door swung inward, pushing Joseph back into the hallway. Mark stepped into the light, a wide grin on his face, followed closely by Stacy, who was clutching a thick folder of business documents.
"Mom? You still up?" Mark started, his voice bright and innocent. "You won't believe the news Stacy has about the Ver—"
The words died in his throat. Mark stopped so abruptly Stacy nearly walked into his back. The grin vanished. His eyes traveled from his father, who was disheveled and clutching a mysterious photograph, to his mother in her damp silk robe, and finally to his best friend, who was standing shirtless in the middle of the hallway.