The damp chill of the basement corridor clung to Alex and Marco long after they'd changed into dry coveralls, the bitter taste of cheap cafeteria coffee doing little to warm them. Security had been brusquely efficient, Hank's termination swift and unceremonious. The cleanup crew sloshed through the flooded area, muttering about overtime. A terse message relayed through the night manager confirmed they wouldn't be docked pay for the time spent dealing with the crisis. It was cold comfort.
Two days later, the uneasy peace shattered. Alex was meticulously cleaning the executive conference room on Ethan's floor – a task Hank had specifically avoided, claiming "bad vibes." Marco was two floors down, polishing brass fittings. The door burst open, not with Ethan's silent menace, but with Hank Reynolds, red-faced and reeking of cheap liquor. His security pass had been revoked, but he'd clearly slipped past somehow.
"Think you're clever, don't you, pretty boy?" Hank slurred, advancing on Alex. His eyes were bloodshot, filled with venom. "Got me fired! Thought you'd just waltz in, play hero, take my spot?"
Alex backed up, gripping his microfiber cloth like a shield. "Hank, you ran! We were just trying to stop the flood—"
"Stop the flood?" Hank spat. "Or *cause* it? Convenient, wasn't it? Pipe just *happens* to blow right when you two hotshots are poking around down there?" He jabbed a thick finger at Alex's chest. "I know your type. Always looking for a way up. Thought causing a crisis and 'saving' it would make you look good to the big boss? Get out of scrubbing toilets?"
The accusation was ludicrous, but delivered with drunken conviction. "That's insane!" Alex protested, his heart pounding. "We were just doing our rounds!"
"Insane?" Hank laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Security cameras see everything, kid. *Almost* everything. They saw you two messing with the pipes earlier that night! 'Just checking pressure gauges,' you said? Looked like fiddling to me!" He leaned in, his breath sour. "Who do you think they'll believe? A couple of debt-slave janitors, or a loyal employee with ten years' service? I've already sent an email. To Thorne. To HR. Detailing your 'suspicious activity' before the 'accident'. Bet that fancy debt of yours just got a whole lot bigger. Maybe even involves criminal charges." A malicious grin spread across his face. "Enjoy prison, Moretti. Hope your boyfriend visits."
Panic seized Alex. It was a lie, a vicious, drunken lie, but Hank had been there for years. He knew the system. He could twist perceptions. And Ethan Thorne… he'd believe the worst. He'd *want* to believe the worst.
Before Alex could react, Marco exploded into the room. He must have heard the commotion. He didn't hesitate. He grabbed Hank by the collar of his stained flannel shirt and slammed him hard against the polished conference table. "You lying piece of shit!" Marco roared, his face inches from Hank's. "You ran like a coward! We saved this place! And you dare come back here and threaten Alex?!"
Hank sputtered, fear momentarily replacing anger as Marco's grip tightened. "Get off me, Silva! Security! Assault! You see? Violent! Just like I said!"
"Marco, stop!" Alex yelled, terrified. Marco losing his temper, assaulting Hank… it played right into Hank's narrative. "He's not worth it! Let him go!"
Marco's chest heaved, his knuckles white on Hank's collar. He looked at Alex, the raw fury in his eyes warring with the dawning realization of the trap. If he hit Hank, it was over. For both of them. With a snarl of pure disgust, he shoved Hank away, sending him stumbling back against a chair.
Hank straightened his shirt, his bravado returning. "See? Violent thugs! My email stands. You're both finished." He turned and lurched out of the conference room, leaving Alex and Marco standing amidst the gleaming furniture, the air thick with the threat of ruin.
Marco turned to Alex, his expression a mixture of rage and desperate apology. "Al, I'm sorry, I lost it, but that bastard—"
"He sent the email, Marco," Alex whispered, the numbness of the debt replaced by the cold grip of real fear. "To Thorne. Accusing us of sabotage. To get out of cleaning." The absurdity almost made him laugh hysterically. "Ethan will believe him. He'll want to. He'll use it to destroy us."
**(End of Chapter 17)**