Chapter 38: Uncle Matthew Scandal

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the pounding in my head, like someone was jackhammering inside my skull. My throat felt hurting, and every swallow felt like I was scratching it with sandpaper. I groaned softly, turning away from the sunlight that had begun creeping into the room. Crying myself to sleep was stupid; now I was paying the price.

The clinking sound of someone stirring something nearby pulled me fully out of sleep. I squinted and slowly opened my eyes, blinking against the light. Tiffany stood near the bedside table, stirring a steaming cup of something. The faint minty smell wafting through the air hit me, easing the nausea that had been building in my stomach.

With a hand pressed against my forehead, I pushed myself upright and leaned back against the headboard. My other hand massaged my temple in a half-hearted attempt to soothe the headache.

She turned at the sound of my movements, smiling faintly. "Good morning, Miss Blakely. I’m sorry if I woke you." She picked up the cup she’d been stirring and walked over to the bed. "This is peppermint tea. It’s good for headaches. I thought it might help."

I didn’t bother responding, just stretched my free hand toward her. Unfortunately, my coordination was still off, and instead of grabbing the saucer, my hand landed squarely on the side of the cup. The heat seared my palm, and I yanked my hand back with a hiss.

She winced, rushing to apologize. But her apologies only aggravated the headache further. I glared at her, snatched the saucer properly this time, and raised the tea to my lips.

The first sip was scalding, but the warmth was oddly soothing against my sore throat. I took another sip, then a larger one, draining almost half the cup before handing it back to her. She took it gingerly and placed it on the bedside table, and turned back to me, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. "Miss Blakely, I wanted to say I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. I should’ve been there, but I got so wrapped up in the task you gave me that I forgot my main job is to be wherever you need me. I—"

"Enough," I said curtly, cutting her off. My voice was scratchy, barely above a whisper, but I tried to make my tone sharp enough to make her pause. Sentimental apologies weren’t on the menu today. I was totally not in the mood for anything at all.

"What did you find?" I asked, rubbing at my temples.

Shw straightened, her hands unclasping as she stood at attention. "Do you want me to bring the documents?"

"No," I said flatly. "Just brief me."

She nodded, exhaling softly before starting. "Very few people know about this, and the minister ensured it stayed buried. Those who wouldn’t keep quiet... well, they’re no longer in the country."

I raised an eyebrow, urging her to get to the point.

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor before continuing. "Miss Nancy’s—“

I glared at her, “Drop the honorifics when, whenever you want to talk about herm she doesn't deserve it“

"Yes, Miss. Nancy's second uncle, Matthew, was... involved with her. It started when she was young. He’d touch her at night and threaten her not to tell anyone. At first, she didn’t, because she was too scared." Her voice dropped slightly, as if she were wary of being overheard.

"But over time," she continued, "he manipulated her into accepting it. By the time she was fifteen, they were...too intimate. Or at least, that’s how it seemed. When her nanny found out and told her father, the prime minister had Matthew detained in secret. But instead of facing a public trial, he was sent to a private prison, I couldn't get the location."

My fingers tapped lightly against the bedsheet, as I let her pause. "Go on," I said.

She shifted uncomfortably. "Nancy was later sent to private therapy. That’s when it became clear she hadn’t willingly accepted his advances. He threatened her, and whenever she refused, he... forced her. She only acted like she welcomed it because she felt she had no choice, and might lose her life in the process if she hadn't agree, and truly he did stop manhandling her.."

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. The minister’s pristine image couldn’t handle a scandal, so he quietly swept everything under the rug. Predictable.

Tiffany cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "Ms. Tabitha helped me get most of this information, and the expenses were... significant."

"Photos?" I asked, grimacing at the disgust swirling in my stomach.

She nodded quickly. "Yes, fortunately Matthew kept photos and videos of them. Most of the videos have been destroyed, but we managed to get out hands on a one-minute clip and three photos."

"Good." I leaned back against the headboard, closing my eyes briefly. "I want the file and the flash drive on my desk before noon."

"Yes, Miss Blakely," she replied, bowing her head slightly, and then turned to leave, but I stopped her with a quick, "Wait."

Immediately she turned back, waiting for my next instruction.

"If anyone asks for me, tell them I’m asleep and don’t want to see anybody. Not my mother, not even Frankie, no one, I'll only take lunch, so make me something edible and bring it along with the file and flash driver. Like I said earlier, no one should know of this“

She nodded. "Understood, Miss. Anything else?"

I hesitated for a moment before adding, "Get me a new phone."

Her lips twitched into a small smile. "Of course, Miss Blakely."

She left the room quietly, shutting the door behind her. I let out a long breath and sank deeper into the bed. My head throbbed more, and my throat ached less, because clearly, the peppermint tea was either not made well or something because the headache just wouldn't go away.

Might as well just get an aspirin. I needed a moment of peace. Or at least, as close to peace as I could get, because one thing was certain: I wasn’t letting the pool incident slide. Whoever had the audacity to push me in—whether it was some coward playing a joke or someone genuinely stupid enought o think I wouldn’t find out—was really going to regret it.