Alex sat in the café on Fifth, his coffee cooling untouched beside him. The usual hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware faded into the background as he stared out the window. Every second that ticked by on the digital clock in the corner of his vision tightened the knot in his chest. Claire Kempt was late.
He waved his hand casually, summoning a digital screen that appeared only in his line of sight. It was instinct now—he barely even thought about it anymore. His eyes scanned the numbers: his debt had exploded. After the reckless night at the club, his balance wasn't just in the red—it was an abyss. And unless he pulled off this next move flawlessly, it would swallow him whole.
He flicked through his accounts, each swipe more disheartening than the last. His debt had tripled overnight, and the poker game wasn't just a dangerous gamble anymore—it was his only way out. His heart hammered at the thought of what would happen if he lost.
"If this doesn't work…" He murmured to himself, his voice barely audible. The words hung in the air, unfinished. He didn't need to finish them. His mind filled in the blanks—collectors at his door, assets gone, his future obliterated.
Kofi's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, sharp and biting. "You planning to stare at that bank app all day, or are you actually gonna do something?"
Alex sighed and waved away the screen. "I'm working on it, Kofi. But this isn't some small-time deal. One wrong move, and I'm done."
"Right, no pressure or anything," Kofi shot back sarcastically. "Just remember—you're not the first guy to think he's a genius at a high-stakes table. How many 'smart guys' do you think have gone bankrupt trying to play poker with billionaires?"
Alex knew Kofi was right, but the words only added to the heavy pit in his stomach. He'd already put everything on the line. There was no turning back now.
His phone buzzed, a brief reprieve from his thoughts. Claire's name flashed across the screen: Running late. Be there in five.
He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of his debt, the poker game, and the looming confrontation with Victor Devereux. His mind kept circling back to one thought—what if he couldn't pull it off?
"Kofi," Alex began, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if I'm wrong? What if I can't win?"
For once, Kofi's tone was free of sarcasm. "You set this in motion, Alex. Devereux's going down, whether you win or not. But you're playing with fire. If you're not careful, you'll get burned."
Alex clenched his jaw. He knew the risks, but the alternative was worse—doing nothing. Devereux wasn't just some tech tycoon; he was a predator. And now Alex had information that could bring him down, but only if everything went perfectly.
The café door swung open, and Alex spotted Claire immediately. She scanned the room, her gaze sharp, and zeroed in on him. She moved with purpose, her expression unreadable as she sat across from him.
"Alex Han," she greeted him, her voice cool but professional. She studied him, her eyes flicking over his face, searching for something. "You've got my attention. Now, what's this all about?"
Alex leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I've got something on Victor Devereux—something big. If you're willing to take a risk, this could change everything."
Claire raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "I get tips on Devereux all the time. Why is yours different?"
With a wave of his hand, Alex pulled up a digital screen visible only to him and Kofi. The headline from ten years in the future blazed across the screen: "Victor Devereux Charged with Human Trafficking and Money Laundering". His pulse quickened just reading it, but he kept his expression steady.
"Devereux's empire is built on dirty money," Alex said.
"I have proof—everything starts in 2014, illegal funds funneled into his tech ventures. He's been laundering money through shell companies for years."
Claire's gaze hardened. "Proof? You'd better have more than whispers and rumors. If I go after Devereux and come up empty, it's my head on the chopping block, not yours."
"I can get you the proof. I'm working on it," Alex said, his voice steady but his mind racing.
"But I need your help to create some noise. Shake things up, put pressure on him. He's attending a charity golf tournament this afternoon—that's when I make my move."
She studied him for a long moment, suspicion still lingering in her eyes. "Why me, Alex? Why not someone else? What's your angle here?"
He hesitated, glancing down at his hands. He couldn't tell her the real reason—that he had access to future news and headlines she wrote herself thanks to a glitchy phone and a sarcastic alien. "Because you're one of the few reporters who isn't scared of Devereux. You've taken on people like him before."
Claire crossed her arms, still unconvinced. "This is career suicide if you're wrong. I need more than your word."
"You'll get it," Alex promised, voice tight.
"But I need time. This poker game—it's my way in. Devereux's going to be there, and if I can knock him out, I'll have what you need. All I'm asking for is a little time and for you to start spreading the word. Create distractions, get people talking."
Claire's skepticism softened, just a bit. "Alright. I'll keep my ear to the ground. But if I don't see concrete evidence, I'm pulling the plug."
Alex nodded. "Fair enough."
As she stood to leave, Kofi's voice buzzed in Alex's ear again. "You got her attention, but don't get cocky. This game's bigger than you think."
Alex didn't respond until Claire was out of sight. "I know," he muttered, staring out at the busy street. "But I can't back out now."
He swiped his hand, bringing up the profiles of the other poker players—men with money, power, and egos as large as their fortunes. One profile in particular caught his eye: a real estate mogul known for his shaky investments. If Alex could tip off the right people about the man's bad finances, it might be enough to keep the attention off Devereux.
"Found your next target?" Kofi asked, his voice quieter than usual.
Alex nodded. "Maybe. If I can pull this off, I'll force Devereux's hand. But if I screw up..."
Kofi cut him off. "Then you're way deeper than you ever thought. Just hope Claire's not bluffing."
Alex pushed his chair back and stood, pulling on his jacket. The street outside buzzed with life, but to him, it felt like everything was standing still, the weight of his choices pressing down harder than ever.
"Alright," he said under his breath. "Time to make some noise."
He stepped out into the bustling chaos of the city, cars honking, people rushing by. For a brief moment, doubt gnawed at him, the enormity of what he was about to do settling in. But he pushed it down, hardening his resolve.
He had a plan. He had the knowledge. All he needed now was to outplay Devereux—and for luck to be on his side.
"Let's do this," he muttered, disappearing into the crowd, the city swallowing him whole as he marched toward his next move.