Chapter 63
CHARLOTTE
ས དཱི 41%
The abandoned warehouse loomed ahead, its rusted walls covered in peeling paint and graffiti, a relic of some forgotten past. The air smelled faintly of damp metal and decay, and the wind whistled through broken windows high above. I stepped out of my car, the crunch of gravel under my heels unnaturally loud in the silence. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, but I forced myself to stay composed.
I glanced around, squinting into the shadows, trying to see if anyone was already here. The email’s instructions sent earlier this morning had been clear: Come alone. 10:00 AM. Warehouse District 4. It felt like a cliché out of some low–budget crim film, but this was no movie. My reputation, my life as I knew it, was on the line.
I pushed open the heavy, groaning door and stepped inside. The dim light filtered through cracks in the walls, and dust motes danced in the air. The space was eerily empty except for a single figure standing in the center, shrouded in black from head to toe.
As I walked closer, I realized it was a woman.
Her silhouette was still discernible, even through her clothing.
She wore a loose, hooded cloak that obscured her frame, and a black mask covered her face, leaving only her sharp, calculating eyes visible. Her hands rested loosely at her sides and I noticed her right hand adorned with a delicate, heart- shaped flower ring. It glinted faintly in the weak light.
I locked onto the ring, trying to imprint its image in my mind. It was distinctive, too distinctive to be meaningless.
“Charlotte..,” She said, her voice low but clear.
I folded my arms across my chest, feigning confidence despite the fear clawing at my insides. “That’s me. And you are?” She chuckled softly. “I’m the person holding your future in my hands. That’s all you need to know.”
“Convenient,” I said dryly. “So, you’ve dragged me here. What do you want?”
She tilted her head slightly, as if amused. “Straight to the point. I like that. What I want is simple: five hundred thousand dollars. Cash.”
My stomach dropped, but I kept my face neutral. “Five hundred thousand?” I repeated, my voice steady. “That’s ridiculous. For what?”
“For my silence,” she said coolly. “I know you took that video of Damien and his PA. I have proof. And if you don’t pay up, I’ll make sure he knows too. I think you know how ruthless Damien Hale can be when someone crosses him. You humiliated him. What do you think he’ll do when he finds out it was you?”
The mention of Damien sent a chill down my spine, but I refused to let her see it. “If you had proof, you wouldn’t be standing here demanding money. You’d have already gone to him.”
Her eyes narrowed, a glint of amusement flickering in them. “Maybe. Or maybe I want something more valuable than revenge. You’re smart, Charlotte. You know I don’t need to convince Damien. He’ll believe me the moment I show him even a sliver of evidence. Do you really want to gamble on that?”
I swallowed hard, my palms slick with sweat. She was right, of course. Damien wouldn’t hesitate. If he believed I’d done this to him, he’d tear my life apart without a second thought.
1/2
Open
14:35 Tue, 18 Feb
Chapter 63
ས༣41%
I forced a laugh, aiming for nonchalance. “Five hundred thousand is a lot of money. Do I look like I have that lying around?
“Doesn’t matter,” she replied, her tone sharp. “You’re resourceful. You’ll find a way. You have one week. No extensions.”
I frowned, pacing slightly to buy myself time. “Be realistic. Even if I wanted to, I can’t pull together that kind of money in seven days. It’s too much.”
Her gaze followed me as I moved, unrelenting. “That’s not my problem. Figure it out.”
I stopped pacing and faced her directly. “I’ll give you eighty percent,” I said, my voice firm. “That’s the best I can do.”
She shook her head slowly, her gloved hand lifting in a dismissive gesture. “No. The price is five hundred thousand. Not a penny less.”
“You’re being unreasonable,” I snapped, my frustration bubbling over. “Why not take what I can offer? It’s better than nothing.”
Her laugh was low and cold. “Because I know you can pay the full amount. And I like watching you squirm. Besides, if you don’t… Well, let’s just say Damien will be very interested in what I have to share. And the media? They’ll eat this up. The golden girl of the Thompson family caught in a scandal? Imagine the headlines.”
My jaw tightened, and I took a slow, steadying breath. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” I said, my voice low and threatening. “If you push me, I’ll find out who you are. You won’t get away with this.”
She tilted her head again, her posture calm and unshaken. “Is that a threat, Charlotte? Because if it is, you’re not very good at them. And let me make something clear: you won’t find me. But I’ll find you—if you don’t pay up.”
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to keep my voice level. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Her eyes glinted with amusement. “So are you. But you don’t have a choice, do you? One week, Charlotte. Don’t waste it.”
I held her gaze, my mind racing. Her voice was vaguely familiar, but the mask and hood gave me nothing to work with. The ring–my only clue–stood out like a beacon, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet.
“I’ll get the money,” I said finally, my voice tight. “But don’t think this is over. I’ll figure out who you are.”
Her laugh echoed in the empty warehouse as she stepped back into the shadows. “I’ll be waiting. Good luck, Charlotte. You’ll need it.”
And just like that, she disappeared into the darkness, leaving me alone in the cavernous space, the weight of her ultimatum pressing down on me like a boulder.
I stood there for a moment, my heart racing and my thoughts spiraling. She thought she had the upper hand, but I wasn’t about to let her win. One week. That was all the time I had to come up with the money–or a way to turn the tables.
As I walked back to my car, the glint of her ring flashed in my mind again. A heart–shaped flower. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. I’d find her. And when I did, she’d regret ever crossing me.
9/9
AD
Comment
Send gift
