Chapter 3

After scanning the letter, Warren took off his reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, chuckling.

"Chase, this isn't a legal claim. It's a glorified extortion threat."

"Zero evidence. They don't even specify what component was allegedly tampered with."

"They're just trying to rattle you into settling out of court."

I nodded.

I knew Richard’s playbook inside out.

His dilapidated factory ran entirely on cobbled-together, second-hand scrap iron.

To get those prehistoric relics running at modern speeds, I had custom-written a proprietary control program from scratch, practically breathing life into dead metal.

When I left, the software was humming flawlessly.

To cut costs, he definitely hired some unqualified hack to tweak the core parameters, inevitably triggering the system's hard safety interlock.

A cryptographic dead-lock.

And without my master override key, nobody on earth could crack it.

"So we ignore it?" I asked.

Warren smirked.

"Absolutely not. We counter-sue."

"Defamation, harassment, and an audit for unpaid overtime compensation."

"If they want to play games, we play until they go bankrupt."

Over the next few days, radio silence fell from Richard’s camp.

Every day that assembly line sat idle cost him tens of thousands in contractual penalties.

He couldn't hold out much longer.

On the third evening, as I was sitting down for dinner in my apartment, the doorbell rang.

Looking through the peephole, I saw Richard’s haggard, sunken face.

Behind him stood Trent, sporting a fresh black eye and swollen lip.

Clearly, Trent had had a miserable time down at the precinct—or Richard had beaten the crap out of him himself.

I pulled the door open just a crack.

Richard instantly forced a grimace that looked more agonizing than crying.

"Hey there, Chase! Having dinner?"

"Hope I’m not interrupting!"

He tried to step inside, but I planted my arm firmly against the doorframe, blocking him out.

"Say it here."

Richard awkwardly pulled his foot back, hastily thrusting a gift basket toward me.

"Chase, it was all a huge misunderstanding!"

"Trent here was an absolute idiot. I already gave him a proper beating for stepping out of line!"

He kicked Trent hard in the shin.

Trent winced, keeping his head down like a whipped dog.

"Chase... I'm so sorry. I'm trash. My mouth got ahead of me."

Watching them put on this pathetic theater made my skin crawl with disgust.

"Get to the point."

Richard wiped a film of cold sweat from his forehead.

"Look... the main line is totally dead."

"The current batch has to ship by the end of the week, or the client's breach penalty will literally wipe me out."

"Chase, for the sake of the three years we worked side by side, throw me a lifeline."

"That five-hundred-dollar fine? I'll pay you back ten times... no, a hundred times over!"

"Fifty grand! Cold hard cash! If you come over and fix it tonight, I'll wire it the second you finish!"

Fifty thousand?

Months ago, that sum would have made my head spin.

Now? It felt like an insult.

"Mr. Leach, did your ears stop working?"

"My rate is one thousand dollars a minute."

"From the second I step out my front door until the system boots green."

Richard’s fake grin froze, a flash of pure malice darting through his eyes.

"Chase Vance, don't push your luck."

"Fifty grand for turning a few screws is ten times the market rate!"

"Don't burn every bridge you cross. You might need one on the way back."

"If you back me into a corner, I swear to God I'll drag you down with me!"

I let out a cold chuckle and pointed directly at the hallway security camera right above his head.

"Is that another felony threat?"

"My lawyer was just asking for more evidence to bring to the judge."

Richard trembled with fury, his pointing finger shaking violently.

Unable to choke out another word, he violently spiked the gift basket onto the floor, smashing the contents.

"Fine! Chase Vance! Just you wait!"

"Let’s see how long your arrogant ass lasts!"

He stormed off down the corridor with Trent trailing behind him.

I shut the door and pulled out my phone.

The entire exchange was saved as an audio recording.

By the next morning, huge protest banners were strung across the gates of Richard's plant.

Not from striking workers, but from furious enterprise clients demanding immediate liquidated damages.

A fleet of luxury SUVs blocked the factory exit, blaring their horns while megaphones blasted demands for Richard to show his face.

The place had descended into absolute madness.

Employees were walking off the floor, clients were pounding on the glass, and parts suppliers were cutting off raw shipments.

Richard was barricaded inside his office, trembling behind locked doors.

At 3:00 PM sharp, my phone rang.

Richard again.

This time, his voice was cracked, shivering with total despair.

"Chase... please, Chase..."

"I'm begging you. Save my life."

"I agree to everything! A grand a minute! Whatever you want, I agree!"