"Victoria, with respect, you've changed since you met him. You're canceling meetings. Questioning long-standing policies. Listening to people who don't understand our industry. Someone had to make sure you were thinking clearly."
Victoria heard the fear beneath the accusation. Linda was not only worried that Daniel might hurt her employer. She was afraid that Victoria was becoming someone she could no longer predict or control, and that the position Linda had built for herself depended on keeping the old Victoria exactly where she had been.
"You're right about one thing," Victoria said. "I have changed. But the decision I'm making now isn't about Daniel. It's about you."
The meeting ended with Linda removed from her responsibilities and her employment terminated for misconduct after the company's initial review. The formal investigation would continue, and the organization would cooperate with the authorities where required. Victoria did not announce the decision to the staff as a moral victory. She gave no speech about loyalty or betrayal. She simply made sure a dangerous line had been recognized and that someone would be responsible for repairing the harm.
She drove to Daniel's workshop that evening more nervous than she had been on her first visit. He was replacing a brass hinge on a cabinet when she arrived. His hands were steady, his sleeves rolled above his forearms, and a tiny smear of wood glue marked one wrist. Seeing him engaged in such an ordinary task made her feel the full absurdity of what Linda had done.
"There's something I need to tell you," she said.
He set down the screwdriver. "That sounds serious."
Victoria explained the fake wallet, the courier, and the police report, choosing plain words rather than hiding behind the language of corporate process. Daniel listened without interrupting. When she finished, he remained silent for long enough that she wondered whether she had destroyed the ease that had slowly developed between them.
"I didn't know she was doing it," Victoria said. "I didn't authorize it. But she's worked beside me for years. The way she thinks about people didn't come from nowhere, and I can't pretend I didn't reward some of it."
Daniel looked toward the open door, where evening light touched the concrete path. "I'm glad you told me," he said. "I thought the wallet was strange. I didn't realize it was supposed to be about me."
"I've dismissed her."
He turned back. "Completely?"
"For cause. Yes."
Daniel leaned against the workbench. "She was wrong to do it. It could have caused real trouble, and she shouldn't have done it to anyone. But before you decide what happens next, is there room to ask why she believed it was necessary?"
Victoria stared. "She tried to humiliate you."
"I know. I'm not asking you to say that was harmless. I'm asking whether you can hold her responsible without needing to hurt her back."
"I thought you'd be pleased she was gone."
"I'm relieved the behavior will stop," he answered. "That's different."
His response unsettled her more than anger would have. It would have been easier if Daniel had demanded punishment, easier if she could justify every hard decision as an act of defense on his behalf. Instead he was asking her to distinguish between protection and retaliation, two things she had often treated as the same in her professional life.