Page 102 of A Game of Deception

“We have him,” he said, turning to me, his eyes blazing. “Morrison’s notes, Diego’s testimony… We can finally end this.”

I took a long, deliberate swallow. “Can we?”

He stopped pacing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, let’s look at our hand, Xander,” I said, setting the bottle down with a sharp click. “We have the word of a disgraced,bribe-taking cop and a gambling addict who was on my father’s payroll. In a courtroom, Hank’s lawyers would shred them before lunch. It’s not enough.”

Leo, who had been watching silently from an armchair, gave a grim nod. “She’s right. It’s a mess, but it’s not checkmate.”

“Then what the hell do we do?” Xander demanded, frustration cracking his voice.

I pushed off the counter and walked to the massive wall of windows. Miami glittered below, a city built on ambition and secrets. My father’s city.

“We need something irrefutable,” I said, my voice low. “Something his money can’t bury and his lawyers can’t spin.” I turned back to face them, the plan fully formed, cold and clear in my mind. “We need him to confess.”

Xander stared at me. “Confess? To who? He’s not going to just offer it up.”

“Not to you,” I said. “To me.”

He took a step toward me, his face darkening. “You’re talking about going to him alone.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous.”

I raised an eyebrow. “This from the man who just walked into a mob den to rescue Diego?”

“That was different.”

“How?” I challenged.

“Because Torres is a businessman with a code!” he shot back, his voice rising. “Your father is a monster who has spent twelve years trying to destroy my life while pretending to protect you. There is no code. There are no rules with him.”

He was right, and that was exactly the point. I reached for his hand, my touch calming him instantly. “He won’t see this coming. His blind spot has always been me. He thinks he’s won. He thinks he’s finally broken us apart and that I’ll come running back to him.” I squeezed his hand. “He’ll be so high on his own victory, so desperate to justify why he was right all along, he won’t be able to stop himself from talking.”

Leo cleared his throat. “And how do you prove it?”

I pulled my phone from my pocket and held it up. “I record him.”

Xander was already shaking his head. “Tara, no. What if he finds it? What if he realizes it’s a setup?”

“He won’t,” I said with a certainty that left no room for argument. “He has never, not once in my life, seen me as a threat. I’m just a daughter to be managed. That arrogance is the weapon we’re going to use against him.”

“There has to be another way,” Xander insisted, his voice pleading.

“There isn’t,” I said gently, but firmly. “We can’t go to the cops or the league. He owns them. This is our only shot, and we have to take it now, before he finds out Diego flipped.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. I could see the war in Xander’s eyes—the instinct to protect me fighting against the cold logic that I was right.

“I don’t like it,” he said finally, his voice rough.

“You don’t have to like it. You just have to trust me.”

He pulled me into a fierce, desperate hug, his arms a steel cage around me. “Be careful,” he murmured into my hair. “If anything happens to you…”

I held onto him, drawing on his strength. “He’s played his last card, Xander. Now it’s my turn.”

When he let me go, I saw the terror in his eyes, but underneath it, he was letting me do this. He was trustingmeto handle it. It was a terrifying and beautiful thing, a love that didn't seek to control, but to empower.