The café was quiet, intimate—too intimate. Every soft clink of a spoon against a cup, every whispered conversation felt like it was aimed at me.
Robert was already seated when I arrived. Two coffees waited, steam curling lazily from the cups, like this was a date instead of a trap.
He looked calm. Too calm. That scared me more than anger ever could.
"What do you want?" I asked, my voice tight. Fury was there, yes, but so was fear.
He studied me openly, leaning back like he owned the space. Not shy. Not apologetic. Not worried.
"Victor's distracted lately," he said smoothly. "Missing details. Short temper. That's not like him."
My nails dug into my palm under the table, my pulse hammering.
"If he seems distracted, how's that your business?" I snapped.
He smiled faintly, tilting his head. "I observe that you're playing a dangerous game… in a house that isn't yours."
I felt the color drain from my face.
"Are you trying to blackmail me?" I asked, my voice lower, trembling.
"Not yet," he said calmly, almost amused, like he was savoring every second of my panic.
Slowly, deliberately, he reached into his jacket pocket. My heart leapt into my throat.
He placed his phone on the table and turned the screen toward me.
The photo made my stomach clench like ice in my gut.
There i was , with Victor, His mouth on my neck. His hand buried in my hair.
I felt exposed. Naked in ways that had nothing to do with clothing. Violated. Furious.
"What do you want? If you need cash to shut the hell up, just tell me," I spat, trying to sound braver than I felt.
He didn't answer immediately, he just studied me, his gaze like a scalpel, cutting me down, weighing me.
Finally, he said, "I don't want your money."
Something cold sank through my chest.
"Then what?" I asked, my voice cracking.
His eyes darkened.
"You're obsessed with Victor," he said quietly. "That much is obvious."
Heat flared in my cheeks. "That's none of your business."
"It becomes my business when it affects… everything else."
I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry. My pulse thundered in my ears.
"Stop all this crap talk and tell me what this is about." I tried to sound steady, but I was trembling.
He leaned back, calm, calculating. "Simple. You stop chasing him."
My heart skipped.
"And?" I hissed, unable to hide the tension curling in my stomach.
"And you start seeing me instead." He laughed as he said it.
The words hit me like a slap across the face. My hands clenched in my lap, nails digging into my palms.
"That's insane!" I burst out, my voice trembling, even as the café seemed to shrink around me.
"Is it?" He tilted his head slowly. "You like power. You like attention. You want Victor to notice you—but he keeps resisting.
"You are crazy if you think you know him. Who the hell do you think you are?"
Disgust crawled up my spine, coiling tight. I wanted to laugh, scream, run.
"You think I'd date you just to stop this?"
He smiled slowly. Slowly. That made my stomach drop.
"No," he said, leaning forward. His voice dropped, dark and confident. "I think you'll do it… to stop everything else from coming out."
My pulse stuttered, skipping like a broken record.
He tapped the phone screen again. My eyes followed.
"If you refuse… this goes to Elena."
The words felt like a gun to my chest. My lungs burned. My stomach lurched. My hands shook.
"You wouldn't," I whispered, barely audible.
"Try me."
Silence fell heavy. The café felt smaller, airless. Every sound—every murmur of conversation outside—seemed to press against me. I was trapped between Victor's restraint and Robert's predatory control.
I thought of my mom. If she knew… a heart attack wasn't out of the question.
I thought of Elena. The betrayal would destroy her, too.
Robert picked up his coffee calmly, as if none of it mattered. "I'll give you twenty-four hours to decide whether you want to ruin your sister's peace… or ruin yourself."
He stood, leaving the phone glowing on the table. The photo still there. Proof. Leverage. Power.
My hands trembled violently as I stared at it.
****
I was restless for most of the day. Every tick of the clock made my stomach twist tighter. I couldn't eat, couldn't focus, couldn't stop thinking about Robert, the photo, the threat hanging over me like a guillotine.
Every shadow in the mansion seemed sharper, every footstep louder.
After twenty-four hours of agonizing waiting, my phone buzzed. A new message.
"New location. Tonight. Don't be late."
My fingers trembled as I read it. The words were simple, but their weight pressed down on me.
There was no choice. I had to go.
I tried to push it down, tried to ignore the fear curling in my stomach, but it clawed at me relentlessly.
Thoughts collided in my mind—what if this was a trap? What if he had filmed more? What if this time, there was no way out?
And then, before I could brace myself, my phone buzzed again.
This time, the call display made my blood run cold.
"Why won't you leave me alone? What do you want?" I hissed, voice shaking despite my effort to sound steady.
He laughed before saying, "you're late missy"
I placed my phone into my purse and ran out
At the restaurant
**
Robert leaned back, smirking, eyes glinting with something nasty, something that made my stomach
Then he broke the silence. "Just wondering how a gorgeous woman like you ended up happy being your sister's husband's dirty little secret."
The words hit me like a punch. My tea froze mid-air. Heat flooded my face—shame, fear, and anger crashing together.
"Cut the bullshit," I snapped, louder than I meant to. A couple at the next table glanced over, startled. I dropped my voice, trembling. "I said—what do you want, Robert? Spit it out."
He smiled wider, slow and cruel, clearly enjoying the power he had over me.
"I want you. That's it. Just you."
My stomach flipped violently. "Never. Happening."
I pushed out the next words, sharp and fast. "Name your price. Let's end this now."
The smile vanished. His eyes went cold, dangerous. He shoved his chair back with a loud scrape that made my heart jump. For a second, he just stared at me, furious, like I'd just slapped him.
"Money?" he said flatly. "You really think this is about money?"
He stood, jacket hooked over one arm, and leaned closer, voice low and venomous. "Let's see if you're still singing that song after I send Elena the video."
My blood froze. "What… what video?"
I lunged for his sleeve as he turned, but he jerked away.
"Robert—wait—"
He didn't. He stormed out. The doorbell jingled behind him like it was laughing at me. Everyone was staring. I collapsed into my chair, hands shaking so badly the tea spilled.
A video.
He had a video.
Me in that restroom at the gala. Skirt pushed up. Victor behind me, every desperate gasp and wet slap recorded, crystal clear, every filthy second. Elena would see it. My big sister would see me like that.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn't dare look.
I threw cash on the table and stumbled outside, blinded by sunlight.
The street was too loud, too normal. People laughed, cars honked, life went on while mine fractured.
Do I tell Victor? Confess to Elena?.
Or do nothing and hope Robert's ego is bigger than his ruthlessness?
Then the screen lit up before I even touched it. A call from Elena.
My heart stopped.
The phone kept ringing—her name flashing. I froze. I didn't want to answer. What I needed was to run, hide somewhere. Robert had definitely sent her the supposed video.
I knew… the second I answered, or the second I opened that attachment, there was no more hiding. Everything I loved was about to shatter.
I tried calling Victor first.
My hands shook so badly I could barely dial. All calls went straight to his assistant.
"Mr. Victor is in a meeting. Would you like to schedule a call?"
Schedule? SCHEDULE? I wanted to scream, but I hung up.
What if Robert already sent it? What if Victor's phone was blowing up while I stood here like an idiot?
I dialed Robert next. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing. Fourth time—voicemail. Fifth time—he picked up.
"What!" he barked, loud, furious.
Then he laughed. Ugly, rolling, terrifying.
"Why is Elena calling me nonstop?" I asked, still shaken.
"How would I know? What did you do, Lys? Spill it." He laughed harder, like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. "Don't worry, baby. She'll know soon enough."
He scoffed and hung up.
My heart slammed so hard I thought it might crack a rib. I ran home, rehearsing every gasp, every tear, every fake sob. The perfect lie—I would claim it was an edit from people trying to destroy the Ravenscrofts.
***
I burst through the mansion door. Out of breath, sweaty, terrified.
Elena paced like a gentle, worried sister. The second she saw me, my stomach flipped so hard I almost collapsed.
I opened my mouth to speak, but she didn't yell. She didn't slap me. She didn't even look angry.
She rushed over and pulled me into the tightest hug I'd ever felt.
"You're safe," she whispered. "You're safe, Lys."
Little Lily crashed into my legs. "Auntie Lys! Mommy was so worried!"
I froze.
Elena pulled back slightly, eyes soft and worried. She reached into her pocket and took out her phone. My knees almost buckled.
"Look, Lys," she said quietly. "Someone sent me this picture today. Some sick creep trying to blackmail us, I think."
She showed me the screen.
It was me. Naked. Legs spread. A man behind me—but blurred out.
Only the act remained. Raw, obvious, deniable.
I swallowed hard. Throat tight.
Elena sighed. "I think some nutcase is trying to scare us. Probably photoshopped this. But I'm not falling for it. I've called our lawyer. Whoever did this is going to regret it."
She hugged me again. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess. You don't deserve it."
Lily tugged my hand. "Auntie, why are you shaking?"
I couldn't speak. Fake tears died in my throat. Real ones burned behind my eyes.
Elena thought it was a fake picture with a random guy. She was protecting me.
And Robert… Robert had the real thing. He was watching. Waiting. Testing.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn't dare look.
Elena's phone buzzed at the exact same second. She glanced down, frowned, and showed me the screen again.
New message. One line:
"Ask your little sister what really happened in the bathroom. The video's next. Tick tock."
Elena's jaw tightened. Her eyes hardened, and she looked at me—really looked.
I froze, my chest tightening. The room was silent except for Lily humming a little tune. My stomach churned. I could feel everything about to explode.
Suddenly, the front door opened. Victor.
He stopped in the doorway, eyes locking on Elena's hands.
She was holding her phone, the screen displaying the blurry image—me and him, tangled together.
Victor's face went stiff. His jaw clenched, and his usual calm composure cracked. His hands flexed at his sides.
"Elena. Block that number. Now!" His voice was sharp, furious, every syllable edged with tension.
Elena glanced down at the phone. The image was blurry—nothing clear, just two indistinct bodies. "Uh… okay?" she said hesitantly, her fingers moving quickly to block the unknown number.
Victor's gaze didn't leave the phone for another heartbeat. His eyes flicked to me, and I could feel the fury radiating off him. Without another word, he strode past me and out of the room, still clearly furious.
I let out a long, shaky breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My legs felt weak, my chest tight.
"I… I think that's over," Elena whispered softly, glancing at me with innocent concern. "For now."
I nodded, though my heart was still hammering. I didn't waste another second. I bolted upstairs, slammed my door, pressed my back against it, and slid down until I was sitting on the floor.
Finally, I let out a shaky, relieved sigh. For now, the threat was paused. Victor had protected us, and Elena—sweet, innocent Elena—had blocked the number without question.
For the first time since Robert's call, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. I was safe… for now.