Palm Reading at the Pyramid

Eliza traced the lifeline on Carlos's **palm**, her thumb pressing into the callus he'd developed from twelve years of corporate climbing. "You're going to live a long life," she lied. The humid evening air of Cancun pressed against the hotel balcony, thick with the scent of jasmine and the distant sound of tourists **swimming** in the infinity pool below.

Carlos laughed, bitter and exhausted. "If I survive the **pyramid** scheme, you mean." He pulled his hand away, reaching for the **vitamin** supplements that lined his nightstand — C, D, B12, a rainbow of capsules meant to sustain him through ninety-hour weeks destroying other people's livelihoods.

Eliza had been hired as a consultant three months ago. Her real job: corporate **spy**, hired by the board to investigate whether Carlos was embezzling. She'd infiltrated his life, his bed, his trust. And now she had the evidence she needed — encrypted files on his laptop showing he was siphoning millions into offshore accounts.

What the board didn't know was that Carlos wasn't stealing for himself. The money was funding legal settlements for victims of the company's predatory products. He'd been destroying himself from the inside out, sacrificing his career, his health, his future for people he'd never met.

Carlos watched her face in the dim light. "You know, don't you?"

Eliza's thumb stopped moving against his skin. The choice wasn't really a choice at all. Some betrayals were worth committing. Some **pyramid**s deserved to crumble.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, and for the first time in months, she didn't feel like she was **swimming** against the current. "But I do know you need another **vitamin**. And that we should probably order room service."

Carlos exhaled, something between a laugh and a sob, and covered her hand with his. The board could find another **spy**. Some things mattered more than the job.