Chapter 46: A dull, little scheme

Tom sat in the dining hall with a plate of a simple meal in front of him. He had told the kitchen assistant what he wanted, and she had prepared it without comment.

The house felt quieter than usual. Sienna had left for her office a short while earlier, and the absence of her presence made the space feel less tight.

He was halfway through the meal when the System’s voice cut in.

[Red alert, Host. Your wife has something prepared for you. Almost here. Stay alert.]

Tom paused with the fork halfway to his mouth, then set it down.

"Of course she does. I know she wouldn’t just back down like that." he muttered. "Thanks for the heads-up." he added.

He resumed eating, even though the food had lost some of its taste. His mind was at alert, wondering what exactly Sienna had planned.

A few minutes later the sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway reached him. Not the usual car. Heavier. Then a bodyguard appeared at the entrance of the dining hall.

"Mr. Harlow. There are men outside from a towing company. They’re asking for you."

Tom furrowed his brows as he wondered what the towing company would want from him. When the realization dawned on him that it was about his car, a deep frown etched on his face.

"Not my car, Sienna!" He gritted.

"Excuse me?" The bodyguard asked.

Tom shook his head that he shouldn’t worry then wiped his mouth, stood, and walked out with the bodyguard.

~~~~~~~~~

Two men in work clothes stood near the black Mercedes. A flatbed tow truck was already positioned behind it, the ramp partially lowered. One of the men held a clipboard. The other was checking the rear wheels. Both looked up when Tom approached.

"Thomas Harlow?" the one with the clipboard asked.

"That’s me."

"We’re here to remove this vehicle. Unauthorized parking. We’ll need you to step aside."

Tom stopped a few paces away and looked at them properly. The Body Language Analysis skill fed him details almost immediately; the way the man with the clipboard kept his shoulders slightly angled away, the other man’s eyes flicking toward the house instead of holding steady, the tightness around both their mouths. They were not comfortable.

"Unauthorized parking?" Tom repeated. "On a private residential property. Where the owner of the car lives?"

The clipboard man gave a short, professional smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "We act on the instructions we receive. The vehicle matches a report. We’re required to take it in for verification."

Tom glanced at the truck, then back at them. "What report?" he demanded.

"That’s internal."

"No, It’s not. You’re standing in front of my car with a tow truck. You’re going to do better than ’internal.’" Tom said firmly.

The second man shifted his weight. "Sir, we don’t have any explanation to make unless you follow us to our office. For now, let us do our job."

Tom studied them for a moment longer. The skill made the discomfort obvious. These were not men carrying out a clean, official order. They were men carrying out a paid request and hoping it would stay simple.

"How much did she pay you?" he asked bluntly.

Both men stiffened.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," the clipboard man said, a little too quickly.

Tom exhaled through his nose. The old version of him would already have stepped back, already have started calculating how to avoid conflict. That version was quieter now. In its place was something steadier, still new, but no longer willing to be walked over.

"You’re lying," he said calmly.

"I can see how you’re trying very hard to finish this before anyone asks proper questions." he pointed out, peering at the man as if searching through his soul.

The second man muttered something under his breath. The clipboard man shot him a look, then turned back to Tom with a firmer expression.

"Sir, we’re professionals. We don’t discuss client arrangements. Now move aside or we’ll have to proceed."

Tom didn’t move. He let the silence sit for a second, then took one step closer. Not aggressive. Just enough to close some of the space.

"I’m going to make this simple because I’m a simple person. You should consider yourselves lucky," he said. The men blinked.

"Whatever she paid you, I’ll triple it. You take the money, you raise that ramp, and you leave. You never come back for this car. And you don’t mention my name or this address to anyone again."

The two men exchanged a glance. For a moment neither spoke. The clipboard man’s coughed dryly.

"That’s not how this works," he said, but the conviction in his voice had thinned.

"It’s exactly how this works," Tom replied. "You’re not here on an official report. There’s no police file. No proper authorization paper trail that would hold up if someone pushed. You’re here because someone paid you to create a problem for me. I’m offering to pay you more to make the problem disappear."

The second man rubbed the back of his neck. "Boss...?"

The clipboard man raised a hand to quiet him, still watching Tom. "Even if we were to consider that, the number wouldn’t be small."

Tom huffed then pulled out his phone. "Name it."

There was another pause. Then the man gave a figure that was clearly inflated. Tom read the micro-expression that followed - the slight lift of the brows, the way the man waited to see if he would accept it without question.

Tom almost smiled.

"That’s higher than what she paid you. Try again. A real number." he said.

The man’s mouth tightened. After a few seconds he named a lower amount. Still high, but closer to something workable. Tom considered it, then nodded once.

"I’ll double the amount you mentioned since you refused to come out clean on how much she gave you. Not triple. That’s my offer. Give the account details."

The two men looked at each other again. The hesitation was real this time. Finally the clipboard man exhaled and rattled off the details. Tom transferred the money, waited for the confirmation, then held the phone up so they could see it.

"Done. Now raise the ramp and leave."

For a moment it seemed like the clipboard man might still push back. Then he gave a short nod to his partner. The second man moved to the truck, hit the control, and the ramp began to lift. The sound of the mechanism filled the quiet driveway.

Tom stood there until both men were back in the cab.

The truck pulled away a moment later. Tom watched until it disappeared past the gate, then let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His hands were steady, but there was a low buzz under his skin.

"Sienna, Sienna... I never knew you’d be scheming lowly like this." Tom shook his head in incredulity.

He turned and walked back toward the house.

[Well handled,] the System said as he stepped inside. [You read them correctly, applied pressure without losing control, and closed the matter. Growth.]

Tom rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I handled it well thanks to you. I had the tools. Authority. Charm. The money. And the skill that showed me they were lying."

[True. But tools only work if the hand holding them doesn’t shake. Yours didn’t.]

Tom’s mouth curved slightly. He was also proud of himself.

"So, was this the interesting part of the day you mentioned earlier?" he asked after a second of silence.

[No,] the System replied, its tone dry. [That was a dull little scheme. Cheap and predictable. The interesting part comes later. For now, go finish your breakfast. You’ll want your focus intact.]

Tom stood there for a second longer, then shook his head once and walked back toward the dining hall. The plate was still where he had left it, the food now cold. He sat down anyway, picked up the fork, and forced himself to take another bite.