Sharon stood frozen in place, her breath shallow and uneven as dread washed over her like a tidal wave. She couldn't move, couldn't even blink, as the weight of what had just transpired settled heavily in her chest. Jake, her boyfriend, had overheard her phone conversation with Andrew, her boss, and she could feel his piercing gaze burning into her. The fact that she was planning to visit Andrew's house this late at night was enough to arouse suspicion. Now, Jake's sharp, accusatory questions confirmed her worst fears—he knew far more than she ever wanted him to.
"Why does your boss need you at his house this late?" Jake demanded, his voice low but simmering with suppressed anger. "What did he say when you asked about his wife? Did he even mention her?"
Sharon's lips trembled as she turned to face him, her hands clenching nervously at her sides. Her mind raced for an excuse that might diffuse the situation, but nothing credible came to her. Finally, she stammered, "Well... he said his wife left him, and he needs me to come over. Maybe it's something urgent."
Jake's lips curled into a bitter smirk, his dark eyes narrowing. "Urgent, huh? I thought your job was limited to office hours. Or have they changed the definition of being a secretary? You're supposed to be here with me, Sharon, and instead, you're running off to him in the middle of the night."
"Babe, please, it's not what you think," Sharon replied, her voice trembling. "Maybe it's something important he needs help with. He wouldn't call me at this hour unless it was serious."
Jake took a step closer, his jaw tightening. "Oh, it's serious, all right. I'm sure it's serious enough to involve his bed—like the other times you've been with him."
Sharon's heart skipped a beat, and her breath caught in her throat. "What?!" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Who told you that?"
Jake's smirk deepened, but his tone was icy. "I didn't need anyone to tell me. I saw it with my own eyes. One day, when I went to deliver a package to Claire—your boss's wife—I overheard their argument. She was yelling about his little office affair, and guess what? Your name came up."
Sharon felt like the ground had been ripped from under her. "Babe, I can explain—" she began, but Jake cut her off with a sharp wave of his hand.
"Don't bother," he said, his voice dropping dangerously low. "I'm not interested in excuses. I've kept this to myself for a long time, but now I have a mission for you. And if you refuse, you're going to regret it."
Before she could respond, Jake pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times. To Sharon's utter horror, a video began playing—a sex tape. It was her and Jake, unmistakably intimate. Her stomach churned with nausea, but it got worse when he swiped to another video. This one was even more damning: it showed her and Andrew in the office, locked in a compromising position. Jake stopped the playback just as her mind started spinning.
"Where... where did you get this?" she asked, her voice trembling with fear and disbelief.
Jake's smile was cold and calculating. "Let's just say I have my sources. Now, here's the deal: I want sixty percent of Andrew's wealth. You're his secretary, and soon, you'll be his mistress if you aren't already. That gives you access to everything. Use it. If you don't, these tapes are going public."
Sharon's fists clenched at her sides, anger and humiliation swirling in her chest. "Are you blackmailing me?" she hissed.
"Call it whatever you want," Jake replied with a shrug. "But if you don't do as I say, your little dream of marrying a rich man will go up in smoke. You'll be ruined, Sharon."
Her mind raced, weighing her options. If she agreed to Jake's demands, Andrew's company could go bankrupt. She couldn't let that happen—it would destroy everything she had worked for. On the other hand, if she refused, her reputation would be shattered, and the tapes would haunt her forever.
Jake leaned in closer, his voice dripping with menace. "Make no mistake. I'm serious about this. Get it done, or I'll make sure everyone sees these tapes."
With that, he pocketed his phone and walked back toward the nightclub they'd just left, leaving Sharon standing in the cold night air, paralyzed with shock and fury. Her teeth clenched as tears welled up in her eyes, but she forced them back. **This isn't over, Jake. Two can play this game. You'll pay for this.**
Resolving to fight back, she flagged down a taxi and climbed in, her mind already formulating a plan.
---
Meanwhile, at a luxurious mansion across town, Claire sat in her new bedroom, admiring the opulence surrounding her. Her mother had arrived earlier that evening, and the new maid was busy unpacking her luggage.
"This house is magnificent," Claire's mother said as she surveyed the sprawling estate. "You've outdone yourself, my dear."
Claire smiled faintly, though her thoughts were far from cheerful. "Thank you, Mum. You should go rest now—you've had a long day. The maid will show you to your room."
As the maid led her mother upstairs, Claire sank onto her bed, her mind racing. Tomorrow, she would pay Henry a visit at his office. She needed to find a way to wedge herself further into his life, to drive a permanent wedge between him and Chantel. **Once I'm done with Chantel, Henry will have no choice but to see me as the perfect woman for him.**
She picked up the glass of milk the maid had left on her bedside table, took a sip, and smiled to herself. **Everything is falling into place.**
---
At the other end of town, Chantel and Henry were putting their children to bed. After tucking them in and switching off the lights, they retreated to their own room. Chantel checked her phone and noticed an email from their wedding planner.
"Our planner sent me an update about the wedding," she said, scrolling through the message. "But I think we should postpone it. With everything going on—Andrew, Claire, and her mum—I don't think it's the right time."
Henry nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. We need to focus on resolving all of this drama first. But one thing I don't want to postpone is legally adopting the kids."
Chantel frowned slightly. "We can't afford to delay that, but have you heard from the lawyer?"
"Yes," Henry replied. "He's working on the paperwork. Everything should be ready soon."
"That's good," Chantel said with a sigh of relief. "But what about Andrew? He already admitted he's the kids' father. Isn't that enough evidence?"
Henry shook his head. "It's a start, but it's not solid enough. We need witnesses or something more concrete. Andrew's a slippery man—he could twist the truth in court."
Chantel nodded, her mind turning over the possibilities. "You're right. We'll need to gather more evidence. I'll think about how we can do that."
As they discussed their next steps, miles away, the pieces of an intricate web of deceit, betrayal, and revenge were being woven.