The Short Selling

Margot had been running from the truth for three years, ever since the SEC started sniffing around the hedge fund's books. Now, sitting in this sterile coffee shop in Prague, watching the rain streak against the window, she wondered if David had already turned. He always had that bull-headed quality—the kind of man who'd charge into situations without considering the consequences. It was what made him brilliant in the market, and what eventually destroyed them both.

She remembered the morning he'd called her, breathless with excitement. "I found a way to beat the bear, Margot. Every time." He'd discovered a pattern in biotech stocks—FDA announcement dates, clinical trial results—information he could access through his sister, a regulatory affairs director. Just a few days' heads-up. Enough to short the stocks before bad news hit, ride the bear down, and profit from the collapse.

"You're going to get caught," she'd told him, even as she watched her own account balance swell with every "tip" he passed her way. The money was intoxicating. Margot had grown up poor, counting pennies at the grocery store, always one emergency away from disaster. Now she wore Italian silk and drank wine that cost more than her mother's car.

The dog—a rescued pit bull named Brutus—had been David's idea too. A guard dog for their penthouse, though he mostly slept on their Italian leather sofa and ate organic food Margot ordered from a specialty pet delivery service. When the investigators came, David had left Brutus behind with the housekeeper. Margot sometimes wondered if the dog was still waiting, if he still believed David would return.

She checked her phone again. No messages. The encrypted app showed David's account as offline for seventeen days. The last thing he'd written was: "If they come for you, don't mention the biotech plays. That's the only thing they can prove."

But Margot knew better. The SEC had forensic accountants who could trace money flows through shell companies and offshore accounts faster than she could finish her morning coffee. They had David's sister in custody, offering immunity for testimony. The bear market David had claimed to outsmart had finally caught up with them both.

The barista placed a coffee on her table. Margot watched the steam rise, thinking about Prague's extradition treaties. She had enough cash for six months, maybe eight if she was careful. After that, she'd have to make a choice: surrender or disappear completely.

Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.

Margot let it ring, watching the rain blur the city outside into gray streaks, wondering if this was finally the bull catching up with her, or just someone trying to sell her insurance.