Chapter 3: The Art of the Counter-Offer

Alex's phone rang exactly forty-seven minutes after they'd left Sterling's office. He glanced at the caller ID with that same predatory smile Leo was beginning to recognize as the precursor to someone's very bad day.

"Mr. Thorne?" Sterling's voice carried through the speaker with forced civility. "I've reviewed Mr. Martinez's situation, and I think we can work something out. Could you both come back this afternoon?"

"We'll be there in twenty minutes," Alex replied, ending the call before Sterling could respond.

Leo shifted nervously in the passenger seat of Alex's pristine BMW. "You think he's actually going to fix this?"

"Oh, he's going to try," Alex said, pulling into traffic with fluid precision. "Sterling's had a few hours to think, which means he's had time to convince himself he can regain control of the situation. Men like him can't accept that they've been outmaneuvered."

As they drove, Leo noticed Alex's eyes occasionally flickering with that strange light again—like he was reading invisible text or processing data that existed only in his mind. Each time it happened, Alex's expression would shift slightly, becoming more calculating, more certain.

What the hell is he?

---

The Sterling Automotive showroom felt different when they returned. The same jazz played from hidden speakers, the same salespeople moved between customers, but there was an undercurrent of tension that hadn't been there before. Leo caught several staff members glancing nervously in their direction as they walked toward Sterling's office.

Word traveled fast in a dealership. Everyone knew something was happening.

Sterling was waiting for them, but his demeanor had shifted significantly from their morning encounter. Gone was the defeated slump; instead, he sat behind his desk with renewed confidence, flanked by a younger man in an expensive suit who screamed "corporate lawyer."

"Gentlemen," Sterling began, gesturing to chairs across from his desk, "I'd like you to meet our legal counsel, Mr. Davidson. After reviewing the situation, we've prepared a very generous offer to resolve this misunderstanding."

Alex remained standing, his hands clasped behind his back. "I'm listening."

Davidson opened a leather portfolio with theatrical precision. "Mr. Sterling has authorized me to offer full cancellation of Mr. Martinez's current contract, plus a cash settlement of two thousand dollars for any inconvenience caused by the... clerical error."

Leo's eyes widened. Two thousand dollars was more money than he'd seen at once in years. But Alex's expression didn't change.

"Interesting," Alex said mildly. "And what about Mr. Martinez's original trade-in vehicle?"

Sterling's confidence wavered slightly. "Well, as I mentioned this morning, that vehicle was sold several weeks ago. We can't simply—"

"Conjure it from thin air," Alex finished. "I understand. So you're offering cash in lieu of returning stolen property."

"Stolen is a very strong word," Davidson interjected smoothly. "My client made an honest mistake in paperwork, nothing more."

Alex's laugh was cold as winter rain. "An honest mistake that netted your client twelve hundred dollars in fraudulent profit. How remarkably profitable your 'honest mistakes' tend to be."

Sterling leaned forward, his voice taking on the practiced tone of a closing salesman. "Look, Mr. Thorne, we're trying to be reasonable here. Two thousand cash, contract cancelled, everyone walks away happy. That's more than fair compensation for a simple paperwork error."

"Fair." Alex repeated the word like he was tasting something bitter. "Let me make sure I understand your definition of fair. You steal a man's car through fraudulent documentation, saddle him with payments that are destroying his financial future, and when caught, you offer to return less than half of what you stole as if you're doing him a favor."

Davidson's pen stopped moving on his legal pad. Sterling's jaw tightened.

"Furthermore," Alex continued, his voice gaining that mechanical precision Leo had noticed before, "your offer assumes that Mr. Martinez's damages are limited to the immediate financial impact. What about the credit damage from missing payments? The stress-related health impacts? The lost opportunities caused by his destroyed budget?"

"Now you're just being ridiculous," Sterling snapped. "We're offering two thousand dollars cash. In this economy, that's—"

"Insulting," Alex cut him off. "But more importantly, it tells me you still don't understand the gravity of your situation."

That's when Alex's eyes did something Leo had never seen before. They didn't just flicker with that strange light—they blazed with it, like dual monitors displaying data at impossible speeds. When Alex spoke again, his voice carried an otherworldly certainty.

"Mr. Sterling, in the past eighteen months, your dealership has processed four hundred and thirty-seven vehicle sales. Of those, sixty-three involved trade-in value discrepancies exceeding five hundred dollars. That's not a clerical error—that's a systematic pattern of fraud."

The room went dead silent. Davidson's pen had stopped moving entirely, and Sterling's face had turned an unhealthy shade of gray.

"How could you possibly—" Davidson began.

"Know that?" Alex's smile was razor-sharp. "Let's just say I'm very thorough in my research. The question is, how long do you think it would take federal investigators to identify the same pattern once I point them in the right direction?"

Sterling shot to his feet, his chair rolling backward with enough force to hit the wall. "You can't prove anything! And even if you could, we're offering to settle this quietly!"

"With an insult disguised as generosity," Alex replied calmly. "No, I think we need to recalibrate your understanding of the situation."

He pulled out his phone with deliberate precision. "I have the number for the FBI's Financial Crimes Division programmed in my contacts. Would you like me to call them now, or would you prefer to make a more realistic offer?"

"Wait!" Sterling's voice cracked slightly. "Just... wait. Let's be reasonable here."

"I'm being perfectly reasonable. You committed bank fraud. The penalty for that is up to thirty years in federal prison and forfeiture of all assets connected to the criminal enterprise. Compared to that, what I'm asking for is remarkably modest."

Davidson leaned over to whisper urgently in Sterling's ear, but Alex's enhanced hearing caught every word—something about "pattern evidence" and "RICO charges" that made Sterling's face go even paler.

"What exactly are you asking for?" Sterling asked quietly.

Alex's eyes flickered with that strange light again, and Leo could swear he saw numbers and calculations streaming behind them. "Mr. Martinez needs a replacement vehicle of equal or better value than his original trade-in. Something reliable, with low mileage, fully paid for."

"Fine," Sterling said quickly. "I can arrange that. We have several used vehicles that would—"

"I wasn't finished." Alex's voice cut through Sterling's relief like a blade. "You also owe him compensation for the fraudulent payments he's already made, plus punitive damages for the systematic nature of your fraud."

Sterling's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Punitive damages? This is a civil matter at best!"

"No, this is a federal crime that I'm graciously allowing you to resolve privately. The alternative is explaining to a federal prosecutor why your dealership has been systematically defrauding customers for over a year."

Davidson grabbed Sterling's arm, pulling him aside for a hurried conference. Leo watched the two men argue in harsh whispers, occasionally glancing toward Alex with expressions of growing panic.

Finally, Sterling returned to his desk, looking like a man walking to his own execution.

"What kind of vehicle are we talking about?" he asked quietly.

Alex's smile was pure predator. "I'm thinking something from your certified pre-owned lot. Low mileage, extended warranty, the works. After all, Mr. Martinez deserves better than the jalopy you originally tried to steal from him."

"And the... other compensation?"

"We'll discuss that once you've selected an appropriate vehicle. Consider it incentive to be generous with your choice."

Sterling's shoulders slumped in defeat. The king of his small automotive kingdom had been thoroughly dethroned, and everyone in the room knew it.

"I need some time to review our inventory," Sterling said finally.

"You have thirty minutes," Alex replied, checking his watch with mechanical precision. "After that, my finger starts getting very itchy on this speed dial."

As Sterling and Davidson hurried out of the office to review their options, Leo stared at Alex in amazement.

"How did you know about those other fraudulent sales?" he whispered.

Alex's eyes held that strange flicker again, like light reflecting off deep water. For just a moment, Leo could swear he saw text scrolling behind them—numbers, percentages, data streams that shouldn't exist.

"Research," Alex said simply. "Very thorough research."

But Leo was beginning to suspect that Alex's "research" capabilities went far beyond anything normal or natural. Whatever was happening behind those intelligent eyes, it was something extraordinary—and Sterling Automotive was about to pay the price for underestimating exactly who they were dealing with.

The negotiation was far from over, but the outcome was no longer in doubt. Sterling had walked into a trap of his own making, and Alex was about to spring it with surgical precision.