Chapter 13 - The Balcony**
Ten minutes later, as I stepped into my apartment building, my phone buzzed again. A text this time.
*Look up.*
I did.
Daniel was standing on the balcony of the apartment directly above mine—our apartment, still legally half his. He saw me through the glass of the entry doors.
I didn’t move.
He called again.
"Come up. Now. Or I call the press and tell them you coerced her."
I considered calling the police. But if he was already unhinged…
I took the elevator up.
The door was unlocked.
He stood by the balcony railing, silhouetted against the city lights. He looked disheveled—shirt unbuttoned, hair wild, eyes glassy.
"Leave," I said. "The police are on their way."
"Not before we talk." He stepped closer. "You can still stop this. Drop everything. We go to court together, say it was a misunderstanding. I’ll walk away. No charges. Publicly, we’re civil. Privately…"
"Privately what?" I said. "You never intended to leave. You never intended anything but to take what you could and run."
He reached for my arm. I pulled back.
"You were supposed to be quiet," he said, anger rising. "Grateful. You had money, status—everything. Why did you have to ruin it?"
"I didn’t ruin anything. You did."
He grabbed my wrist—hard.
"Take it back."
I twisted free.
"Step away from me."
"Or what?" He stepped closer, backing me toward the balcony. "You’ll fire me again? Throw more money at the problem?"
He shoved me. Not hard enough to knock me down—but enough to make me stumble. My back hit the railing.
"Apologize," he said. "Right now."
"I will not."
He raised a hand. I flinched—but he didn’t strike. He froze instead, staring past me.
Sirens wailed in the distance. Getting closer.
Daniel’s face crumpled. He looked at his hand, then at me.
"You called them."
"I told you I would."
He backed away, toward the door. Stopped. Looked at the balcony edge—fourteen stories down. Then back at me.
"This isn’t over," he whispered.
He was gone seconds later.
My heart hammered in my throat. I gripped the railing until my knuckles whitened.
Eleanor burst through the door moments later.
"Claire!"
"I’m fine," I said, breathless. "He left. Out the stairwell."
She scanned the room.
"Police are downstairs. They’re blocking exits. He won’t get far."
May you like
I looked out over the city lights.
"He’s desperate, Eleanor. Desperate people don’t just stop."
