Chapter 356: The Last 1%
Monique stepped forward, the blood-soaked compress still pressed against her temple, her icy gaze sweeping slowly over each of them.
Nobody moved.
The car alarm kept wailing somewhere behind them, a shrill sound that seemed to match the tension rising in the air perfectly.
"Harlan," she said finally. "I have to admit, I’m almost disappointed. Almost."
"Ma’am, I—" he started, his voice breaking instantly.
"Shut up," she cut in, without even raising her voice.
He fell silent, his whole body curling in on itself, as if trying to make himself smaller than he already was.
She gave a nod to the agents flanking her, their weapons rising slowly, spreading into a silent half-circle around the small group.
"Arrest all of them," she ordered.
No agent moved.
Nash stood there at the center, hands in his pockets, his posture perfectly relaxed despite the guns pointed at him.
"You might want to listen before giving orders nobody here feels like following," he said.
"Nash," Rei whispered, tugging discreetly on his sleeve. "What are you doing, shouldn’t we just—"
He didn’t answer, his eyes staying fixed on Monique.
Monique raised an eyebrow, almost amused despite herself.
"You’re giving me lessons in leadership now?"
"I’m giving you a chance," Nash corrected. "One."
"How generous."
"I’ve got what I need to sink Apex," he went on, unfazed. "Not just Hector. The whole structure. The Jade Garden, the other places just like it across the Spires, every name on that list. Senators, governors, congressmen."
"Nash," Aiko whispered this time, stepping closer, her eyes darting nervously between the agents and Monique. "What’s the plan here? You’re just telling them everything?"
He still didn’t answer, keeping his eyes on Monique.
"Every transaction," he continued. "Every debt contract dressed up as a service purchase. You know exactly what that list includes?"
Monique said nothing, her face staying blank, but something in her eyes flickered, almost imperceptibly.
"The real terms of sale," Nash said, his voice hardening slightly. "Not just the paid prostitution everyone conveniently looks away from. The real trafficking. The women you keep here, run up artificial debt on until they can never pay it off, and eventually sell, literally sell, as personal slaves to the first politician rich and twisted enough to want to buy out their whole debt."
He took a step forward.
"I’ve got the files. I’ve got the buyers’ names. I’ve got the amounts. If this gets out, it’s over. Not just for Hector. For you. For every name on that list. Nobody survives a scandal like this."
A heavy silence settled in, broken only by the distant wail of the car alarm still echoing through the lot.
Nobody moved. Nobody said a word. Even the agents stayed frozen, their weapons still raised but their eyes darting nervously between Monique and Nash, clearly waiting for some kind of reaction, some signal on how to handle a threat like this.
Monique stayed still for a long moment, her face perfectly composed, almost too calm, like she was slowly digesting every word, weighing each one.
Then a chuckle, light at first, that grew into a full laugh.
A loud, sharp laugh that rose all at once and filled the whole parking lot, drowning out the alarm behind them without effort. She tipped her head back slightly, one hand coming to rest on her stomach, like she was struggling to contain the hilarity shaking through her.
Rei traded a lost look with Aiko, neither one understanding what exactly was so funny.
Monique’s laugh stretched on for a few seconds before fading slowly, replaced by a wide, cold smile, her eyes settling back into calm.
"Bravo," she said finally, clapping slowly, twice, three times, the gesture almost insulting in its theatrical slowness. "Really, bravo. Lovely little performance."
She turned her head toward Harlan, her smile hardening instantly into an icy sneer.
"So that’s it, you little piece of shit. You sold us out."
Harlan was shaking now, his hands wringing nervously against each other.
"Ma’am, I couldn’t—"
"Tell me, Harlan, darling," Monique cut in, completely ignoring his attempt at an excuse. "What exactly did he promise you, for you to betray us like a rat jumping off a sinking ship? Some juicy little piece of cheese? A seat at his table? What’s worth more than a soft, peaceful death?"
"I—" Harlan opened his mouth, but no coherent word came out.
"Doesn’t matter," Monique cut in, turning her attention back to Nash, catching her breath. "Because as it happens, my little Nash, I’ve got a card up my sleeve too."
She made a casual gesture with her hand.
Two more guards appeared behind her, dragging someone between them, hands cuffed firmly behind her back.
Saya.
She stumbled forward under the shove of one of the guards, catching herself just in time, lifting her head toward them. Her face already bore the marks of rough treatment — a split lip, a purple bruise forming on her cheekbone, her hair matted in places with sweat or dried blood, her clothes rumpled and torn at the shoulder.
Rei brought a hand to her mouth, a stifled gasp escaping her.
Aiko froze completely, her eyes going wide.
Nash felt his blood run cold instantly in his veins.
"Wh— Saya?!" he murmured.
He stood there speechless for a moment, unable to process what he was seeing. She was supposed to be gone. She had nothing left to do here. So why—?
"What is she doing here," he said finally, his gaze snapping to Monique.
"Oh, her? Nothing much, she was just being a real pain in the ass," Monique said, her voice slipping back into its theatrical lightness. "Honestly, she tried so hard to make my life miserable, like nobody else has in a long time. She even gave you a nice little diversion, smashing a bottle over my head."
She touched a hand to her wounded temple, a smile widening across her face.
"That was brave. Stupid, but brave."
Nash stepped forward, his eyes sweeping quickly over Saya’s injuries, his jaw tightening.
"Why’d you stay," he said, his voice tense. "You were supposed to leave. I told you to leave."
Saya shook her head, unable to answer right away, her breathing ragged, tears already stinging her eyes.
"I don’t know," she finally murmured. "I don’t know, I just—"
"She stayed to help you, sweetheart," Monique cut in, a smile spreading across her lips, clearly savoring the growing distress on Nash’s face. "Honestly, if she hadn’t cracked that bottle over my skull at the right moment, you’d probably still be running around my hallways with no idea where to go. She did you a real solid, this one."
Something hardened in Nash’s eyes.
"Nash," Saya said, her voice breaking, shaking her head harder and harder. "Nash, leave without me."
"Saya—"
"No, listen to me," she cut in, her voice rising, trembling, on the edge of panic. "I’ve always screwed everything up. Always. Since the beginning, with Roam, with you, with everything. I’m supposed to be the deadweight in this story, not—" she stopped, a sob cutting off her breath. "I’ve got nothing left to lose, you understand? Nothing. So leave me here. Take whatever it was you wanted and go."
"What are you—"
"PLEASE!" she screamed, the panic breaking completely through her voice now, her eyes shining with tears. "Leave me behind! That’s all I’m asking! I already betrayed everyone, I already lost everything, I’m not gonna... I can’t be the reason everything falls apart tonight too. Just go!"
"If that’s all you’ve got to say, shut up," Nash said, with enough firmness that Saya went silent instantly, her mouth staying half open.
"How touching," Monique purred, savoring every second of this little show. "You see, Nash, I did my research on you these past few months. Your little army of devoted women. Baby-Boom, your Blacklist girls, and now even the one who betrayed you months ago."
Her gaze drifted to Saya.
"You protect all of them, apparently. Even this one. Especially this one, maybe, judging by the guilt I’m reading on your face."
Nash said nothing, his jaw clenching imperceptibly.
"So here’s what’s going to happen," Monique continued. "You give me that drive. Now. Or I promise you, in front of witnesses, that this girl ends up exactly like every other woman unlucky enough to cross Apex’s path. Sold. Used to the bone by hundreds and hundreds of pigs. Passed from hand to hand until there’s nothing left of her that could even be called human."
She narrowed her eyes, a smile slowly stretching across her lips.
"And I’ll personally make sure it’s slow. Very, very slow."
Saya went pale, her breath catching for a moment, her eyes going wide with pure horror.
"No," she murmured, shaking her head, over and over, the word slipping out of her almost against her will, aimed more at herself than at anyone else. "No, no, no..."
She wanted to tell Nash to leave. She knew she should say it, that it was the only logical thing, the only thing she had any right to ask for after everything she’d put him through, after everything her life had turned into. But the words refused to come out in the right order, her voice breaking on every attempt, the pure terror of what Monique had just described making it impossible to think straight.
"Please," she finally managed to say, not even sure herself if she was begging Nash to leave or to save her, the two thoughts tangling painfully in her head. "Please, please—"
Rei took a step forward, furious.
"You piece of—"
"Rei," Nash cut in, without raising his voice.
She froze, fists clenched, but stepped back, the rage still visible on her face.
Aiko had moved closer to Harlan, her eyes darting nervously between Nash and Monique, feeling the tension climb to an almost unbearable level. She grabbed Nash’s sleeve, tugging lightly on it.
"Nash," she said, voice low, urgent. "You can’t actually be considering giving her the drive. Do you realize what that means? Everything we did tonight, everything we went through, for nothing?"
Nash stayed silent for a long moment, his eyes moving from Saya, terrified and pinned between the two guards, to Monique, whose smile didn’t waver an inch, clearly savoring every second of the situation she’d created.
"I think we’re at a standoff," Nash said finally, his voice settling back into that almost unsettling calm that always seemed to surface at the worst possible moment for his opponents. "You’ve got Saya. I’ve got the drive. Neither of us can afford to lose what we’re holding."
"Exactly," Monique said, one eyebrow raised, curious to see where he was going with this.
"Nash—" Saya started, one last desperate attempt.
"Saya," he said, without even looking at her. "This isn’t your story. Let me handle my own responsibilities."
She went quiet, her shoulders sagging, tears still running silently down her cheeks, unable to do anything but wait, helpless.
"So here’s my offer," Nash continued. "Simple. Direct. You let her go. I give you the drive. Fair trade."
A heavy silence settled in, broken only by the ongoing wail of the alarm.
Monique didn’t answer right away. She stayed still, her head tilted slightly to the side, her eyes narrowed on Nash like she was trying to read straight through him, to find the invisible seam in this fabric presented just a little too perfectly. An offer this simple, this reasonable, coming from a man she’d already learned, in the span of just a few minutes, to consider dangerously intelligent — it reeked of a trap. Except she couldn’t find where.
"That’s it?" she said finally, her voice dragging, still suspicious despite her ever-detached tone. "No negotiation, no counteroffer, just... a clean trade."
"That’s it," Nash confirmed.
"People don’t offer things this simple without an angle," Monique said, taking a slow step to the side, as if to study him from a different perspective. "Especially not after spending the evening taking apart my men and breaking down my doors."
"Maybe I’m just in a hurry," Nash said. "You’ve got what it takes to make me fold. I’ve got what it takes to sink you. We both lose by dragging this out."
Monique let the silence stretch further, her gaze sliding to Saya, still and terrified between the two guards, then to Harlan, still trembling, before settling back on Nash.
"No sleight of hand," she said finally, weighing every word carefully. "No false promises, no last-minute little tricks. A trade, clean, in front of everyone. If I feel the slightest funny business, my men have orders to shoot anything that moves, starting with her."
"If you’re prepared to explain the deaths of Nash Blaze and two Baby-Boom girls on your own property, sure, works for me," Nash said, without a moment’s hesitation.
She kept studying him a moment longer, searching for something on his face, a flinch, a crack — but there was nothing to find, just that flat calm that was starting to seriously irritate her.
"Fine," she said finally. "Here’s how this is going to go. One of my men brings your little runaway over to you." She gestured vaguely at Saya. "And one of your girls brings the drive over to my men. Simple, clean, nobody in the middle."
"No," Nash said.
Monique stopped short, one eyebrow slowly rising.
"No?"
"You bring Saya," Nash said. "And Harlan hands the drive to one of your agents."
She crossed her arms, a skeptical smile slowly spreading across her lips. "And why would I do that myself, like some errand girl, when I have people paid exactly for this kind of task?"
"Exactly because you pay them, they become your pawn, and a pawn has the ugly little flaw of being horribly replaceable. But, as you say, since you’re the one paying them, they can’t afford to lose you," Nash said. "You, on the other hand, can afford to double-cross me during the exchange." He took a step forward, keeping his voice level. "If it’s just a random bringing Saya over to me, nothing stops me from thinking you’ll give the order to shoot us both the second it’s convenient. An agent’s easy to replace. You’re not."
Monique’s smile flickered slightly.
"Whereas if it’s you bringing her," Nash continued, "nobody in this has any interest in letting things go sideways. You’re far too valuable to Apex to take a risk like that, and I’d rather negotiate with the person who actually has the power to keep their word than with a middleman who might panic and blow the whole thing."
"And on the other end," Monique said, narrowing her eyes, "why Harlan, and not one of your girls?"
"Because at this point, Harlan’s not worth much to anyone," Nash said. "Not to you, not to me. He’s a sacrificial lamb now, on both sides."
Harlan’s head snapped toward Nash, something between disbelief and dread crossing his face.
"Nash—" he started, his voice shaking.
"Whereas my girls," Nash continued, ignoring him completely, "I know exactly what they’re worth. To me, and to you too, apparently. You don’t touch them, any of them. Harlan, on the other hand, you can do whatever you want with him, it changes nothing for me, and he knows that better than anyone."
Harlan stood there, mouth open, but didn’t dare say anything more, his eyes darting nervously between Nash and Monique, understanding he had absolutely no weight left in this conversation.
Monique studied him for a long moment, her jaw tightening slightly, still searching, desperately, for the crack in this reasoning that seemed to hold together far too perfectly for a man who, just months ago, was supposed to be nothing more than another lucky street dude.
Then she let out a short laugh, sharp, almost against her will, a mix of genuine irritation and admiration slipping into her voice.
"You really are something else," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Fine. We do it your way."