Chapter 7 - The Ledger of Blood
Leo stood frozen, the nail shaking violently in his small fist. "Julian... Sterling?"
"The man in the black car," Daniel said softly. "The man who lives in the mansion with the iron gates. The man you have been stalking for the past three weeks with that pitiful piece of iron in your hand."
Daniel took a step closer, towering over the boy. The candlelight reflected in his glasses, casting strange, golden geometric shapes across his pale features.
"Do you know why I bought you that cake today, Leo?" Daniel asked.
Leo swallowed hard, his throat dry as ash. "Why?"
"Because three hours ago, Julian Sterling terminated my retainer," Daniel said smoothly. His voice contained no anger, no resentment—only a cold, mathematical calculation. "After eight years of keeping his secrets, after falsifying twelve autopsy reports and burying six whistleblowers, he decided I had become a financial liability. He had my bank accounts frozen under suspicion of embezzlement this afternoon."
Daniel reached into his shearling coat and pulled out a small, sleek silver cylinder—a high-end voice recorder with a glowing red LED light pulsing on its face.
"Julian Sterling believes that without money, a man has no power," Daniel murmured. "He forgets that knowledge is far more lethal than capital."
Daniel set the voice recorder down on the wooden crate beside the glowing cupcake.
"Inside that device," Daniel said, "is a high-resolution audio recording of Julian Sterling ordering the liquidation of Sarah Miller. It includes his explicit instructions to alter the cause of death, his payment terms to my offshore account, and his confession regarding three other 'unfortunate accidents' on his properties."
Leo stared at the silver cylinder, his small mind struggling to process the monumental, terrifying reality of what was happening.
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"Why are you giving this to me?" Leo whispered, his tears stopping. "You helped him. You're... you're a monster too."
"I am a professional, Leo," Daniel replied smoothly, pulling his black leather gloves back onto his hands, fitting each finger into the leather with meticulous care. "And a professional always balances his ledgers. Julian Sterling owes me forty million dollars. Since he refuses to pay in cash, he will pay in blood."
