"What do you an by blackmail? Who is blackmailing you? And most of all, why?"
Though I knew that I should be patient and let her explain at her own pace but what can I do?
So jerk was blackmailing my friend, and I was unaware of it for God knows how much ti. I should have trusted my gut when I first felt her being low on the call.
Now, I feel a little guilty for not speaking to her soon.
I got such busy in my problems that I totally forgot, or should I say, ignored her...Caroline, my friend who let stay at her place. Who got when I called her to announce the divorce?
Who listened to cry, rage, rant, and repeat, and never once judged for it. She was there when I was at my absolute worst, and here I was, blind to hers.
The guilt twisted deeper in my stomach. How selfish could I be? Wrapped up in Dave, Linda, birthdays, and my own ss, I completely missed the fact that my best friend was fighting her own storm.
I leaned forward, my fingers tapping restlessly on the table.
"Caroline, talk to . Please. Who is it? What are they doing? I swear to God, if soone is trying to ss with you, I’ll—" I stopped myself, because honestly, what would I do?
I wasn’t exactly threatening material. But the anger bubbling inside was real.
Caroline looked down, her hands clutching the edge of the table so tight her knuckles turned white. She took a shaky breath. "It’s... A few days ago. On Friday, so of my colleagues planned to go out sowhere fun."
Caroline’s voice was low, almost like she was ashad to even admit it.
"It was just supposed to be a normal night out, you know? Drinks, dancing, nothing crazy. We’d been working nonstop, and everyone was desperate to blow off steam.
So, we went to this new club in a posh area. Flashy lights, music so loud it felt like my heart was thumping in my throat... the usual scene."
She paused, biting her lip, her eyes flicking nervously toward the window as if soone might be eavesdropping.
I leaned closer, whispering, "And then?"
She swallowed hard. "At first, everything was fine. We were just having fun, laughing, dancing. But then so guy showed up—soone I didn’t even know.
He seed friendly at first, offered us drinks, and chatted with my colleagues. But the more the night went on, the more... weird he got. He kept trying to get alone. I refused, but I guess he didn’t like that."
My stomach twisted. I already hated this guy.
Caroline’s eyes brimd with tears again. "I thought I was being careful. I swear I didn’t drink anything from him. But sohow—sowhere he spiked my drink."
Caroline’s voice broke as she said it, and for a second, my whole body went still.
Spiked. My brain latched onto that word like it was the only thing in the room.
"You an—" I started, but my throat tightened. I couldn’t even finish.
She nodded quickly, her fingers trembling as she clutched her coffee cup like it was her lifeline. "I don’t rember much after a certain point.
Just flashes. Blurred lights.
Music pounding in my head. And then waking up the next morning in a hotel room. With this... this pit in my stomach. I kept telling myself I was overthinking, maybe I was just too tired, maybe I drank more than I thought. But then—"
She fumbled with her bag, pulled out her phone, and slid it across the table.
I hesitated before picking it up, almost afraid of what I was about to see. And when the screen lit up, my heart nearly stopped.
Photos. Of her. On the bed with soone.
My stomach dropped. Cold. Heavy. Like soone had just poured ice water straight into my veins.
The photo wasn’t just bad—it was horrifying. Caroline’s face was right there, clear as day, vulnerable, exposed.
And the man—God, the man.
The face was not visible as its back faced the front. But I caught the man’s blonde hair. For so weird reason, it felt very similar to if I had seen this man sowhere.
But the picture was already blurry to pinpoint anything, but it was clear enough to figure out her face.
She was lying on her stomach. Her hair was scattered around. The duvet covered her half body to the waist.
The more I swiped, the worse it got.
I did not have words to describe those pictures. Every ti I looked closer, trying to find so more clues about the man, but nothing significant was found.
I kept praying to find anything leading to that disgusting, weirdo... when I found sothing.
The man had shifted slightly. The cara had caught him from an angle where part of his shoulder and chest were visible.
His head was still turned away, hiding his identity, but that damn blonde hair glowed like a spotlight, ssy and unmistakable. And then my eyes froze on it—just below his collarbone.
A dark hickey.
Bold. Deep. Fresh enough that it hadn’t faded yet.
My heart stuttered in my chest. My brain instantly tried to place it, like a puzzle piece that should have fit sowhere I already knew. A blonde man. With a mark like that.
The hickey was not easy to hide, and it would take a few days to disappear completely. So, we had so ti to find this man.
And sowhere in my heart I knew who the man was, but my mind was denying my guess as it would be next to impossible for him to get involved with Caroline.
It felt absurd, but not sothing that couldn’t happen.
I wanted to tell her but without any proof I cannot bla soone. First things first, I had to gather proof that the guy in the photo was really who I thought he was.
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