8: The Lion and the Rat

Alex's POV. 

"Sit down, Daniel."

I didn’t look up from the folder on my desk. I let him stand there in the center of the room while I finished reading a memo that didn’t matter. I could hear his breathing...fast, shallow, the sound of a man who was about to lose his mind but was trying to keep his tie straight.

Daniel Vance had been one of my top performers. Or so I thought. Looking at him now, I didn't see a rising star. I saw a man who looked like he’d been hit by a truck and was still trying to convince the driver he was fine.

"Alex, we need to talk about the... situation," Daniel started. He didn't sit. He paced a small line in front of my desk, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Hannah. My wife. I don't know what she told you, or how she convinced you to put her in that seat, but you have to understand her condition."

I finally closed the folder. I leaned back, my chair giving a small groan, and just watched him. I didn’t say a word. Silence is a funny thing; it makes people talk when they should stay quiet.

"She's been through a lot," Daniel continued, his voice getting higher, more desperate. He wiped a hand over his mouth. "She’s fragile. Mentally, she’s just not... she’s not herself. I’ve been taking care of her for years. This promotion, this 'Head of Operations' thing? It’s going to break her. And it’s going to look bad for the company when she has a breakdown in front of a client."

"Is that right?" I asked. I picked up a heavy glass paperweight and turned it over in my palm. "You’re worried about her breaking?"

"Of course! I’m her husband," he said, hitting his chest with his thumb. He tried to give me a man-to-man look, a conspiratorial nod. "I know her better than anyone. She’s probably told you some wild stories. That’s part of the illness. The delusions. She’s been on heavy medication, Alex. She shouldn’t even be driving, let alone running my department."

I felt a cold prickle of disgust in my gut. I thought back to the woman I’d met on the curb. The woman who had fixed my faulty projection data in twenty minutes while her hands were still shaking from a panic attack. She wasn't delusional. She was sharp. Shorter and sharper than the man standing in front of me.

"She didn't tell me any stories, Daniel," I said. I stood up slowly. I’m a few inches taller than him, and I made sure he felt every bit of it as I walked around the desk. "In fact, she barely spoke about you at all. She spoke about the work. She showed me the journals. Your 2023 'Vision' plan? The one that got you your bonus?"

Daniel froze. His face went a shade of grey that looked like old dishwater. "I... I don't know what you mean."

"It’s funny," I said, leaning against the front of the desk, crossing my arms. "The handwriting in those journals is hers. The dates are all a year before you presented the ideas. So, unless your wife is a time traveler, it looks a lot like you’ve been plagiarizing a woman you call 'fragile' just to keep your job."

Daniel opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked like a fish out of water. "That’s... that’s not true. We worked on those together. As a couple. I just... I was the face of it because she was too shy."

"You were the face of it because you were drugging her, Daniel."

The words hit him like a physical blow. He stumbled back a step, his eyes wide, the pupils blown out. "That’s a lie. She’s crazy. I told you, she’s crazy!"

"I checked the pharmacy records," I lied. I didn't have the records yet, but the way his bottom lip started to quiver told me everything I needed to know. "Alexander Mercer doesn't like being lied to. And I especially don't like my employees stealing from the people they claim to love. It shows a lack of character. It shows you’re a liability."

"Are you firing me?" his voice cracked. He looked small now. The bravado had leaked out of him, leaving just a scared little bully in an expensive suit.

"No," I said. I let the word hang there. I watched him breathe a sigh of relief. He thought he’d won a reprieve. He thought he could still fix this. "Firing you would be too clean. Hannah wants you here. She thinks you still have a lot to contribute to the 'Vance' accounts."

Daniel blinked, confused. "She... she wants me to stay?"

"Under her," I clarified. I walked back to my chair and sat down, picking up my pen. It was a clear signal that the meeting was over. "Every move you make, every dollar you spend, goes through her desk. You’re going to stay in this building, and you’re going to watch her do the job you stole from her. And if you so much as raise your voice to her, or try to slip her a 'vitamin' again, you won't just be fired. I’ll personally see to it that the police find everything I’ve already started looking for."

Daniel stared at me. He looked like he wanted to vomit. He realized then that he wasn't my star employee anymore. He was a prisoner in a glass office.

"I did everything for this company," he whispered, a last, pathetic attempt at dignity.

"You did everything for yourself," I snapped. I didn't look up from my tablet this time. "And now, you’re going to do everything for Hannah. Get out of my office, Daniel. You have work to do."

He turned and walked toward the door, his shoulders slumped. He looked like he’d aged ten years in ten minutes. Just as his hand hit the handle, I spoke one more time.

"And Daniel?"

He stopped, turning his head just enough for me to see the raw fear in his eyes.

"Make sure you cook something she likes for dinner tonight. I he

ar she’s had a very long day."