Chapter 90 The Helplessness
Will’s P.O.V.
I walk through the front door at 1:00 AM. The guilt is killing me from within. These days, even surviving is difficult. I’m hurting my Professor every day, and I'm doing it deliberately. Tonight, I have to push her away again, even though all I want is to hold her in my arms and tell her how much my heart is crying.
The meeting at the club was a blur. All I could think about was the sound of Iva’s elbow hitting the nightstand and the way she looked at me, like I was a monster she didn't recognise anymore.
I walk into the bedroom. The bed is made too neatly. Her side was untouched. I check the guest room.
Empty.
Bathroom.
Empty.
Kitchen.
Nothing.
A cold wave moves through my chest.
She’s gone.
I stand in the middle of the bedroom, staring at nothing, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe.
I did this. Last night flashes in my head again. The way she climbed over me, desperate for answers. The way her voice trembled when she begged me to talk to her.
And then the shove. She hissed when her elbow hit the nightstand. For one second, I almost lost control. I almost pulled her back. Almost checked her arm. Almost told her everything.
But I couldn’t. Because if I did, she would lose everything. Again. So I stayed still.
I let her walk away. I let her cry. I forced myself to lie there like I didn’t care. God, it hurt me so much.
I’ve never hated myself more.
I sink onto the edge of the bed, burying my face in my shaking hands. I want to scream. I want to punch a hole through the wall until my knuckles bleed.
"I'm sorry, Iva," I choke out to the empty room. "God, I’m so sorry. I wish I could tell you why I’m doing this.”
If I didn’t hurt you, the world would. If I didn’t push you away, those pictures would destroy you. I will go through anything, but I won’t let you feel the world's shame again.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, then open the messages that make me feel sick. They contain a series of high-resolution, nude photos of Iva, private moments from our bedroom. I also received a text with these photos two weeks ago.
Unknown: She looks so dignified in those lectures, doesn't she? I wonder what the Dean of the college would think of his star Professor in these positions. If you want these to stay buried, make her hate you. Break her spirit until she leaves you. If she stays by your side, the world sees everything.
A list followed. Her entire college. Every name. Every number.
My world crumbled in front of my eyes after that day. I had tried everything. Cyber experts. Private IT firms. No trace. The bastard is so damn careful.
If those photos get leaked… last time she managed to survive it, but this time she won’t. She’ll lose her job, her reputation, and her peace. Again.
I can’t let her be humiliated like that. I can’t let a thousand strangers see her the way only I’m supposed to.
So, I became the monster. I ignored her. Came home late. Stayed away. Turned my heart to stone.
Every time I ignored her, a part of me died. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
When she hissed in pain last night, I wanted to pull her back, to kiss every inch of her face and tell her that I’m doing this to save her. But the blackmailer is watching. Every time I soften, a new 'reminder’ pops up on my phone.
The helplessness I’ve been feeling lately is soul-wrenching. I’m dying every day. Giving pain to the person you love is the cruellest kind of punishment. It tears you apart from the inside, knowing you’re the reason for their suffering. And what makes it even worse is that this situation isn’t in my control, no matter how desperately I wish it were.
Now, the house is empty. I’ve succeeded. She hates me. She’s gone. And I feel like my soul has been ripped out of me.
Suddenly panic crashes into me. But where did she go? Did she leave because she hates me? Or did something happen? What if he knows she’s alone now? What if—
I grab my phone and call her. It rings. And rings. Voicemail.
"Pick up, Iva. Please, just let me know you're safe," I mutter, pacing the room.
My hand shakes.
Where could she go? She has no family here. No close friends she trusts enough to stay with. The blackmailer is clever, he’s stayed three steps ahead of every IT expert I’ve hired at the club. If he knows she’s left, does that make her more of a target?
“Iva…” My voice breaks as I sit down heavily on the bed.
I look at our wedding photo on the side table. We’re laughing. Looking at each other like nothing in the world could touch us. We had no idea someone was watching. Waiting. Planning.
Then my eyes fall on my wrist. There are her blue eyes. Her glasses. We both got a tattoo of each other’s eyes a few months ago because we wanted a permanent reminder that no matter where life takes us, we’ll always be watching over one another, always connected, always belonging to each other.
“I’m doing this for you. Please understand that one day.” I trace the ink with my thumb, and tears fall on it. “Please be safe. Hate me. Leave me. But stay safe.”
The thought of her being scared somewhere, alone, destroys me. What if the blackmailer approaches her directly?
What if he hurts her?
No.
I stand up suddenly.
Enough. I can’t sit here waiting. I can’t risk her safety just because I’m following orders like a puppet.
I grab my keys. I’ll find her. I don’t care if I have to tear this city apart. I don’t care if I have to burn everything I built.
“I’m coming for you, Professor.” I rush out the door.