Chapter 2: The Phone Calls
By midnight, Daniel’s phone had become a weapon.
Not his.
Preston’s.
The first call came from a wedding planner who had hired Daniel three times.
“Daniel,” she said carefully, “I heard there was an incident.””
Daniel stood inside his small apartment kitchen, staring at the unpaid invoices on his counter.
“There was an incident,” he replied.
“A child threw food at me, destroyed my hat, and his father refused to correct him.””
Silence.
Then:
“I’m sorry, Daniel. I can’t risk upsetting the Whitmores.””
The call ended.
The second call came twenty minutes later.
Then the third.
By morning, three future events had disappeared.
Tasha arrived at his office carrying coffee.
“You look terrible.””
Daniel gave a tired smile.
“Good morning to you too.””
She placed the coffee down.
“How many?””
“Three.””
Her expression changed.
“Already?””
“He moves fast.””
Tasha sat down.
“You know what bothers me?””
“What?””
“He didn’t just hurt your business. He wanted you to know he could.””
Daniel looked out the window.
The city was waking up.
Streetcars moving.
Restaurants opening.
People living normal lives.
His life suddenly felt fragile.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Daniel Baptiste?””
“Yes.””
“This is Marcus Hale from the Whitmore Foundation.””
Daniel frowned.
“I don’t know you.””
“No. But you know Preston.””
Daniel said nothing.
Marcus continued.
“I saw the videos.””
Daniel leaned back.
“What videos?””
“The ones from the party.””
A chill went through him.
“Who posted them?””
“Not Preston.””
A pause.
“His wife did.””
Daniel looked confused.
“Claire?””
“She sent them to me last night.””
“Why?””
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Because she’s afraid.””
That afternoon, Daniel met Marcus at a quiet coffee shop near the French Quarter.
Marcus was older, with silver hair and a folder sitting beside his cup.
“I worked with Preston for years,” Marcus said.
“And now?””
“Now I know what happens when nobody tells him no.””
Daniel opened the folder.
Inside were printed documents.
Complaints.
Emails.
Names.
“What is this?””
“People who lost contracts after disagreeing with him.””
Daniel looked up.
“Why are you showing me this?””
Marcus hesitated.
“Because you’re not the first person he tried to destroy.””
Before Daniel could answer, his phone buzzed.
A message.
From Claire.
Daniel opened it.
One sentence.
*Please don’t trust anyone connected to my husband.*
He stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
*Especially not Marcus.*
Daniel slowly looked across the table.
Marcus noticed.
“What happened?””
Daniel turned the phone around.
Marcus read the message.
And his face changed.
Because he knew something Daniel didn’t.
“Daniel,” Marcus whispered, “you need to leave.””
“Why?””
May you like
Marcus looked toward the window.
“Because Preston already knows we’re here.””
