I walked into Steam & Maple like I was trying to disappear into the steam. The place smelled like burnt sugar and wet wood, that thick cozy stink that makes city people pretend they are somewhere softer. She was where I left her in my head, same corner table, hoodie up, no makeup, fingers curled around a cup gone cold enough to have forgotten it was ever hot.

"Didn't think you'd actually reply," I said, sitting down opposite her. My voice sounded too loud in that small space.

"Didn't think you'd actually show." She kept her eyes low. They looked like someone had taken a flashlight to the inside of her skull and left it on. Her hands would not stop moving, rubbing little circles on the rim of the cup like they could wipe the inside of her out.

I ordered a coffee I had no intention of drinking just to have something to do with my hands. The waitress smiled like she'd seen our kind of scene before, like it was some recurring show. I didn't mind the audience. I liked that people were oblivious. It made it easier for us.

"How've you been?" I said, because the usual dumb questions can work as a rope sometimes.

She let out a noise that could have been a laugh or could have been a ragged breath. "You mean since my brother pointed a gun at you? Peachy."

"Right," I said, low. "Sorry."

She shrugged like sorry was a currency he never accepted. The rain outside ran slow down the glass, streaking the city into watercolor. I watched it because I was good at staring at things until someone else had to look away.

"He's always been like this?" I asked.

She gave a brittle, small smile that cracked immediately. "Since forever. When our parents died he decided I was his charity case. Controlled every step I took. Grades, clothes, friends. If I pushed back he'd cut me off for weeks. Silence was his punishment. Then when I joined TechForge it got worse. Suddenly I was his employee. Everything I did reflected on him."

Her voice folded on the last word like paper under a thumb. I felt the pressure of it in my chest.

"That video," I said careful. "The one on his phone. How long's he been doing that to you?"

She froze. Her fingers tightened on the cup until her knuckles whitened. "You saw that? How?"

"I wish I hadn't."

She stared at the tabletop and breathed like she was trying to slow a moving train. "He records everything. Keeps files on everyone. Employees, partners, me. Says it's for accountability. I think he just likes control. Makes him feel like a god."

"Sounds more like a coward," I muttered.

"You don't know him, Evan. He's not some street thug you can just punch and call it a day. He's got money, lawyers, people. You touch him, he buries you."

I leaned forward, elbows on the table. She was small in the chair like someone had taken the edges off. "Then we don't touch him. We make him bury himself."

She laughed, and it came out thin and brittle. "You mean revenge?"

"No." I let the word hang like a weight. "Leverage."

Her eyes flicked up to mine and searched for a joke I didn't give. "Even if you found something he'd crush you. He'd crush me."

"Maybe." I kept my voice flat. "But if he felt one tenth of what you felt? He'd crumble."

She let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "You talk like the world still owes people like us fairness."

"Not fairness," I said. "Balance."

We sat with the café noise around us, mug steam rising and the rain making the world outside soft. She began to tell me another thing. About being locked out at nineteen. About rewrites to performance reviews that had the intention of making her small. About the apologies she learned to give before she knew why she was saying them. Parts of her life had been saved for the quiet, but tonight she was gnawing at the edges, peeling things back.

At some point the dam she'd held for years gave. She started to shake. The first sound was a hiccup and then the sob came like someone had opened a faucet. She tried to pull herself back, but the noise rolled through her like a storm.

I left my hand on the back of her chair for a beat, then reached across and took her fingers. Her skin was cool. She flinched like from a shock and then squeezed back, as if gripping something could steady her.

"You don't have to be sorry," I said. "You need to be alive."

She looked at me like she was weighing the promise. "You don't understand what living with him is. I could lose everything. He will make sure I have nothing if I open my mouth."

Her words landed and echoed. They were small sharp things and they made my jaw ache.

"You are not alone in this," I said. "I am not asking you to stand in court. I am asking for what only you would know. Tell me names, dates, places. Tell me where he keeps things. Tell me what he is most afraid of."

"No, no, no. No, Evan. No."

She jerked her hand back like I'd burned her. Tears flooded harder. People around us stole looks and then went back to their cups.

╭────────────────────╮

Persuasion Attempt: Nala

==========================

☐☐☐

==========================

Remaining Chances: 0/2

╰────────────────────╯

The numbers are blunt like a butcher's scale. Two attempts. No wiggle room. I had to pick my words like I was defusing something more dangerous than a bomb.

The first line that came to mind was the safe, quiet opener I had used on people who needed to be coaxed, the gentle voice that makes space.

╭────────────────────╮

Attempting Persuasion

==========================

"I'm here to listen, Nala.

You can trust me."

==========================

Base Chance: 45%

Honeyed Words: +30%

==========================

Final Chance: 75%

Upon Succeeding: ☑

▶ Proceed with Persuasion? [Y/N]

╰────────────────────╯

It felt small and stupid saying it out loud, but ceremony matters when someone is scared. I said yes in my head, then said it out loud.

"I'm here to listen, Nala. You can trust me."

She let out a noise that was equal parts anger and fear. "Trust you? Why the hell would I trust you?" Her voice had teeth in it now. The first attempt petered out against years of broken promises and threats.

The UI flicked above her head like a failed streetlight:

╭────────────────────╮

Persuasion Attempt: Nala

==========================

☑☐☐

==========================

Remaining Chances: 1/2

╰────────────────────╯

One tick. Not enough. Her shoulders went rigid and she pulled away, wrapping both hands around the cup like it could barricade her. This is the exact point people want to run from. They think failure means the idea dies. It does not. It means you try different tools.

She began to talk faster, the way people do when they are building walls. "You don't get it. He has lawyers. He has money. He has contacts in the press. You think you can scare a man who owns a city into giving up his power over his sister?"

"Not scare him," I said. "Make him choose."

She laughed, but the sound was brittle. "He will choose anything but give up. He will make your life a smear and he will laugh through it."

I let her rant. I kept my face calm. I could feel the system waiting like a metronome. The second move had to be the one that showed her I understood that her fear was not some abstract. It was a living thing. It owned parts of her.

I forced the next words like a knife through cloth. I pushed on the place she had bared by crying, the part where she hated that she had learned to be small.

╭────────────────────╮

Attempting Persuasion

==========================

"Trust me, Nala. You have survived him for

many years. But I can see the cracks that

he left on you. For your own sake, and mine,

you have to help me."

==========================

Base Chance: 30%

Honeyed Words: +30%

==========================

Final Chance: 60%

Upon Succeeding: ☑

▶ Proceed with Persuasion? [Y/N]

╰────────────────────╯

It was a gamble that asked her for permission to be brave on her behalf. It promised danger but it did not demand exposure.

"Trust me, Nala. You have survived him for many years. But I can see the cracks that he left on you. For your own sake, and mine, you have to help me."

At the words something gave inside her. She began to tremble, a broken laugh escaping. Her mouth formed a yes then closed. Tears streamed down, loud now. People in the café started to look. She swallowed hard as if gulping courage.

╭────────────────────╮

Persuasion Attempt: Nala

==========================

☑☑☐

==========================

Remaining Chances: 2/2 - Success!

╰────────────────────╯

She nodded, slow and small, as if agreeing to something that might kill her. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll tell you. But you have to promise me something."

"Name it."

"If this blows up, if he finds out I talked, you disappear. Same thing goes for me."

"Fair deal."

She swallowed like a person stepping off a curb. "He has a safe. Built into the wall behind a painting. The bottom right corner of the frame is loose. You press it and slide the frame left. He uses a code tied to dates he cares about. He keeps signed documents and hard drives in there. He also has a safety deposit box under Suncrest Holdings, number 701. Nobody knows about that. He thinks he is invisible."

Every word was currency. I wrote them down, slow, like copying a map. The city outside blurred into streaks of neon. The rain was a soft curtain. The waitress wiped tables, the coffee grinder hissed. None of it mattered. Her story was a code I could trade.

"Where is he most vulnerable?" I asked.

She hesitated then said, "Public exposure. Investors hate scandal. He profits from trust. If people stop trusting him, he loses everything."

"Good," I said. "That is how we make him choose. Not with blood. With the thing he is more afraid to lose than his sister."

She closed her eyes as if she had to lock the memory away. "If you do this, you have to be careful. He watches. He knows more than you think."

"I know," I said, and meant it.

We stayed in the quiet for a while. I folded the napkin and put it in my pocket with my pen. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and tried to put her hoodie right. Her hands shook. I took one last look at her… fragile, dangerous, like a loaded thing that could go off at any wrong word.

"I will be careful," I told her. "And I will be ugly if I have to. But I will not be cruel."

She gave a half smile that might have been hope. "I would… god, Evan. I would like to get mylife back."

"Yeah... yeah, I know."

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

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