Chapter 10 Blackmail
Claire
That morning Ian had already left for work before I even woke up. I knew instantly he did it on purpose, to avoid the confrontation he could feel coming.
He’s really ready to destroy everything we’ve built over all these years. I’m done staying silent. If he wants this marriage to stay as it always had, he has to leave that girl Pattie.
Right now he barely even has time for his own family.
I had walked into the living room and saw Riette ready for school, waiting for his dad to drive him like always. Ian had even taken the driver, so I had to take my son to school myself, since he's not allowed to drive yet. The little things a father is supposed to do, the things he used to do without fail, he hardly does anymore. Our children are grown, yes, but he could at least be a decent father. No.
I had just reached my office and sat down when the bank called.
“Hello, Mrs. Anthony. I’m calling to let you know your husband requested a withdrawal of three million dollars.”
My eyes widened. “What? When?”
“Just this morning, ma’am. He’ll collect it this evening.”
I sank into my chair, holding my head. Three million. From our family account.
I forced a bitter smile. “Give it to him,” I said quietly.
“Come again, ma’am?” the manager says, trying to confirm what I had said.
“I said give it to him. And send the receipt to me.”
“Will do, ma’am. Thank you for banking with us.”
I hung up and sat there. I knew that money was for his mistress. When he comes home tomorrow, since he already said he isn’t coming tonight, I will confront him with the receipt.
But things don’t always go as planned.
That same night, very late, my phone rang and woke me up. I thought it was an emergency from one of the kids at college. But no, it was an unknown number.
I shouldn’t have answered.
“Hello,” I whispered.
Silence.
Then, “It’s me.”
I threw the phone onto the bed, breathing heavily and shaking. Liam. That voice has haunted me ever since that day.
I left the phone there for a while. Then a message came. With trembling fingers I opened it.
A video. I played it and once I did, my mother opened wide, it was me getting fucked by him in his bedroom. He had recorded everything.
I couldn't even process everything when another message comes up instantly:
‘Come outside. Don’t waste my time. Just you. I know your husband isn’t home.’
I looked over to the direction of the window my heart still pounding nonstop when another message came in yet again:
‘Don’t wear underwear. Come in just your nightie.’
I froze.
I called him back right away. He didn’t pick up. I tried again and again. Nothing.
I knew then I had no choice.
Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?
I slipped on my silk robe over the nightie. I never sleep with underwear anyway, so there was nothing to remove.
I left the bedroom and crept down the stairs, slow, silent, praying no one would wake. If anyone saw me now, I’d be finished.
At the front door I paused, glanced behind me, took a shaky breath, and stepped outside. The night air hit me like ice; I shivered hard. My phone buzzed again.
‘Walk straight.’
Our estate is huge, the houses set far apart, everything quiet and dark. I obeyed, heart hammering.
At the far corner of the property a black car waited, sleek and silent. I was terrified; only a fool wouldn’t be.
Another text:
‘Approach the black car. Be fast.’
My legs moved on their own. I walked faster, almost running.
The back door opened before I even reached it. I slid inside and slammed it shut.
There he was, sitting in the shadows like he owned the night itself.
“What do you want from me?” My voice came out small, trembling.
He didn’t answer my question. Instead he leaned forward slightly and said, low and filthy, “You’re not wearing any underwear, are you?”
I swallowed hard. Not because of the words, but because I could already feel my clit swelling, aching, betraying me at the sound of his voice.
“That doesn’t matter,” I forced out. “What do you want?”
He moved closer. I shrank back against the seat.
“I do the talking and the actions. Mrs Claire. And you obey. Unless you want the whole world to see you begging for my cock like a desperate slut.”
I had nothing. Words failed me. All I could manage was a broken whisper. “Please… just delete it.”
He laughed, dark, cruel, no humor in it at all.
He shook his head slowly. “What would your children say, Mrs. Claire?”
My heart stopped. Tears burned my eyes.
His fingers brushed my cheek, slow, possessive. “Please,” I begged again, weaker this time.
But the way he looked at me, like a starving animal finally cornering its prey, told me begging wouldn’t save me tonight or ever.
“You see, Pattie works for me, even though she’s my girlfriend,” he said, his fingertips still grazing my cheek. “So if you don’t want this sextape of yours to leak out, you play the good wife to your husband and don’t confront him about his affair. Are we good?”
I nodded without thinking. Pattie works for him. That explains everything, why he didn’t even flinch when I told him his girlfriend was my husband's mistress.
If they’re doing this for money, I have plenty. They’re nothing but losers I got tangled with. Teeth clenched, I forced out, “How much do you want?” Because right now I realized too late I got played "How much for you and your girlfriend to leave my family alone?” I repeated, my voice harder than I had intended.
His eyes widened for a split second, then that worrying smirk spread across his face.
“Let’s assume I didn’t go into your legs and you offered me money right now, I would have taken it and deleted the video,” he said, bringing his face so close to mine I could feel his breath. “But Mrs. Claire, I tasted that thing between your legs and now I don’t think I want your money.”
His other hand slid down my stomach, moving lower and lower. “Rather, I want this sweet flesh between your legs.”
I hated how my body was reacting. I should pull myself together; this man is blackmailing me. But as his hand slid down to where I ached, I didn’t know when my legs spread just a little on their own. He slipped his fingers between my thighs, finding me already wet, and started rubbing slowly.
My traitorous mouth let out a soft sound, silently telling him to keep going.
“Even though you’re playing hard to get, this body remembers,” he whispered, voice low and filthy. His fingers slipped between my folds again, finding my swollen clit with maddening accuracy. He rubbed slow, deliberate circles, and a helpless jolt shot through me. My hands flew to his shirt, clutching the fabric like it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
I summoned every shred of strength I had left and shoved him hard. He barely shifted back on the leather seat, just enough to break the contact. Then he lifted those two glistening fingers to his lips and licked them clean, eyes never leaving mine.
“You taste fucking incredible,” he growled, voice dropping deeper. “Shit… now I’m so hard it hurts.”
Before I could react, his hand was in his zipper. The sharp rasp echoed in the quiet car. My eyes went wide. “What are you doing?”
Too late.
His cock sprang free, thick, heavy, flushed dark, exactly as I remembered it. A choked hiccup escaped me.
“You’ve missed this, haven’t you?” he said, that cocky smirk back in full force.
I jerked my face away from his hardened cock, cheeks burning. In one swift move his hand clamped around my wrist and he yanked me across the seat toward him. I crashed against his chest, breath knocked out of me. I clawed at his shoulders, pushed, twisted, anything to get free, but he was immovable.
He locked an arm around my waist, dragging me flush against him in the confined space, and crushed his mouth to mine.
I fought for a heartbeat, maybe two.
Then the fight melted out of me. His tongue forced past my lips, claiming every inch, dragging mine into a hungry, punishing kiss. My hands were still on his chest, but they weren’t pushing anymore. They just rested there, trembling, as I kissed him back, helpless, drowning in the taste of him all over again.
His tongue drove into my mouth, hot and demanding, and I took it, sucked it, swallowed every stroke like I was starving. My pussy clenched hard, aching, empty. My mind was gone; it didn’t belong to me anymore; it only obeyed him. My thighs parted again on their own, wider this time, shameless.
He felt it. Of course he did.
He pulled back just enough to smirk, eyes dark and victorious. One rough tug and my silk robe was open, peeled off my shoulders and tossed onto the opposite seat. I was left in nothing but the short, thin nightie, the hem already riding high, the fabric so sheer that in the faint streetlight glow you could see everything underneath.
His gaze dropped to my breasts, pupils blown wide, breath coming faster.
“I want to suck on those,” he rasped, voice thick with hunger.