Chapter 2 - The Cold Grip of Blackmail
Cade Branick stepped around the reception counter.
His leather boots creaked against the tiled floor.
The sound scraped against my nerves like sandpaper.
I pressed my back hard against the wooden shelving unit behind the desk.
My fingers gripped the edge of the counter until my knuckles turned white.
“What do you want, Cade?” I whispered, my voice shaking.
Cade stopped inches away from me.
He smelled of damp leather, cigarette smoke, and cheap cologne.
“You know what I want, Adeline,” he murmured, his eyes locking onto mine with predatory amusement. “The memory card.”
My breath hitched.
The small black memory card.
It was tucked deep inside the drawer, beneath the stack of blank company envelopes.
The card I had risked my job, my sanity, and my safety to acquire.
The card containing the digital paper trail of accounting fraud that had sent my innocent father to die in a prison infirmary.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs.
Cade laughed.
It was a cold, flat sound that echoed in the empty lobby.
“You really think you’ve been clever, don't you?” Cade sneerred, leaning closer until his face was uncomfortably near mine. “For three years, you thought you were playing detective in the records room.”
He reached out.
His heavy silver ring grazed my cheek.
I flinched away, my blood running cold.
“You thought Dunore didn't know?” Cade whispered maliciously. “Dunore watched you walk into that records room every single time. He left the door unlocked for you, Adeline. It was a trap.”
The room seemed to tilt.
All my careful planning.
All those late nights spent scrolling through encrypted spreadsheets.
All of it had been monitored.
Allowed.
Mocked.
“Why?” I whispered, a tear slipping down my cheek despite my best efforts to hold it back. “Why keep me here?”
“Because a caged rat is easier to watch than a loose one,” Cade replied smoothly.
He reached into his coat pocket.
He pulled out the nursing home document again.
“Now,” Cade continued, his voice dropping into a harsh, threatening whisper. “Your grandmother's care is seventy-four hundred dollars a month. The check bounced this morning. If you don't hand over that memory card by five o'clock, her room will be cleared out before dinner.”
“You wouldn't,” I choked out.
“Try me,” Cade smiled cruelly.
He reached past me, pulling open the top desk drawer.
His fingers brushed against the stack of envelopes.
He was inches away from uncovering the memory card.
May you like
I squeezed my eyes shut, my chest burning with suffocating terror, utterly helpless as the trap finally snapped shut around me.
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