Chapter 4

The door swung open and a man in a tailored suit walked in.

He was holding a document, wearing the smile of someone who'd already won.

Bob.

My oldest friend. The company's head of legal.

My first thought was that he'd come to help me.

"Bob—"

I started to speak. He walked straight past me without slowing down and stopped at Laura's side.

He handed the document to Marta.

"Have him sign this one."

Bob tilted his chin toward me.

"Along with the stock transfer—he needs to hand over the factory outside of town too."

I stood there like someone had cracked me across the skull. My vision went white at the edges.

Bob. My closest friend for decades.

Back when his parents couldn't afford his tuition and he was about to drop out of high school, I'd handed him my entire month's living expenses. Ate nothing but plain bread for two months so he could finish school.

When the company finally got off the ground, he was the first person I brought in. I put him in charge of the legal department, gave him the highest salary, made sure his workload was easy.

He was single, so I bought him an apartment. Whatever car he wanted, I got it. Whenever his family hit trouble, I handed over cash, no questions asked.

I'd believed that no matter who else betrayed me, he never would.

And here he was, standing next to Laura, asking for my factory.

I found myself thinking back to that trial.

After Laura's accusation, I'd gone looking for a lawyer. But by then my name was mud—nobody would touch a case with a "rapist" attached to it.

Bob was the only one who stepped forward. He took my case while everyone else turned their backs on him for doing it.

He argued for me in court. He fought hard enough to get my sentence reduced.

The day of the verdict, he clapped a hand on my shoulder and said, "Andre, three years goes fast. When you're out, we'll start fresh."

During those three years inside, he came every single month. Brought cigarettes, food, news from the outside.

I thought that was what a real friend looked like.

But now—

I snapped my head up. My eyes were bloodshot.

"Bob. The evidence in my case back then—you tampered with it, didn't you?"

Bob paused for a fraction of a second. Then a cold smile spread across his face.

"You're only figuring that out now?" He raised an eyebrow. "Too late."

I clenched my fist and slammed it down on the desk.

The impact sent papers jumping across the surface.

It made sense now. Laura's evidence had been full of holes—sloppy, almost laughable—and yet I'd still been convicted. I'd spent three years in that cell trying to understand how. Now I knew. He'd rigged it.

The man I'd trusted most had driven a knife into my back at the moment I needed him most.

"Why?" My voice came out rough and barely recognizable. "Why did you betray me?"

Bob let out a short, cold laugh.

"Why?"

He turned, put his arm around Laura's waist, and kissed her.

My pupils shrank to pinpoints.

Marta spoke up from where she stood.

"Bob was Mom's first love."

Her voice was completely flat, like she was stating a fact about the weather.

"If you hadn't gotten in the way back then, they'd already be together."

Bob raised his head and looked at me. His eyes were full of hatred.

"That's right, Andre. You took the woman I loved. There's no forgiving that."

I stared at him. I couldn't make it compute.

"Over a woman?" My voice cracked. "You threw away decades of friendship over a woman? After everything I did for you—do you even remember any of it?"

"Did for me?"

Bob let out a sharp, contemptuous laugh. Like what I'd said was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"That's a generous way to put it. The honest word is charity."

He stepped toward me. Looked down at me.

"Andre, do you have any idea how much I've hated watching you act like you're above everyone else, year after year?"

"You're a convicted rapist. What exactly makes you think you deserve to be the one running things?"

"What gives you the right to the big house, the nice car, the whole entourage?"

"And me?" He jabbed a finger at himself.

"I have a real law degree. I'm smarter than you. I'm more capable than you."

"But for all these years, I've been nothing but your dog. Sitting when you said sit. Coming when you called."

"Everything you gave me—the car, the money—it was all handouts. Scraps you tossed at me to show everyone what a generous, big-hearted man you were."

"Today—"

He slapped the document down in front of me.

"I'm going to leave you with nothing."

The papers landed with a sharp crack. The edges rustled in the air.

Marta's voice came from beside me, cold and flat.

"Dad. Sign it. Or—"

"This time you won't be looking at three years."