Chapter 38: The Leverage

The next few days blurred into something shapeless. I stopped bothering to keep track of time. Morning bled into afternoon, and afternoon into some kind of gray, sleepless night. I couldn’t bring myself to go to the office—I couldn’t bring myself to do much of anything. What was the point when my mind felt like a storm I couldn’t quiet down? Every sound, every thought seemed to circle back to the same two people: Kevin and Stephen.

Neither of them reached out. Not a call. Not a message. Not even an accidental encounter in the hallway. The silence was the worst part—it stretched wide and heavy, like the air itself was punishing me for everything I’d tried to keep hidden. Especially Stephen’s silence. Knowing that he knew about Kevin and me… that he’d seen what no one else was supposed to ever know… it twisted something inside me.

Then there was Kevin, he didn't reach out to apologize for the way he yelled at me that night at the club. Call me overly sensitive but I damn well knew I didn't deserve that at least, not from him.

I kept replaying that night over and over, the way Kevin’s voice had gone cold, how Stephen’s eyes had burned with confusion and anger. The shame of it all clung to me like a second skin. I hated myself for how I’d handled it, for how everything just spiraled out of control so fast. And I hated Stephen for witnessing it, for holding a truth that could ruin everything if he ever decided to use it.

It was late—one of those nights when sleep felt like an impossible luxury. The house was quiet, too quiet. My chest felt tight, so I wandered out of my room, down the stairs, barefoot and half in a daze, just to get some water. My reflection on the kitchen window startled me for a second—I looked like someone else. Someone worn out. Someone who’d lost more than just peace.

I didn’t expect anyone else to be awake. But there he was. Stephen. Leaning against the counter, a mug of coffee in hand, the dim light catching the edge of his jaw. The sight of him was enough to send a rush of heat through me—anger, mostly, and something else I didn’t want to name.

He turned his head slightly when he heard me. “Hey,” he said, his voice calm, almost cautious.

I bit down hard on my lower lip before forcing a reply. “Hey.” The word came out quiet, flat, but laced with everything I didn’t want to say out loud.

He nodded toward the cup in his hand. “Couldn’t sleep?”

A bitter laugh almost escaped me. How could I possibly sleep when I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror without feeling disgust crawl under my skin? My entire world had become noise and guilt, and he was standing there acting like we could just… talk. Like things were normal.

I shook my head slightly. “Look, Stephen, about that night you found out about me and Kevin at the club—”

“Really?” he interrupted, setting his cup down with a soft clink that sounded louder than it should’ve in the silence. His tone was sharp enough to cut through my sentence. “You wanna talk about that here?”

The question hit me like a shove. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. He was right—it wasn’t something to talk about in a kitchen under the half-light of midnight. But still, I needed to say something, anything, just to loosen the knot in my chest.

Before I could, he moved. Fast. He pushed off the counter, his expression unreadable, and in two strides he was in front of me. His hand wrapped around my wrist—not hard, but firm enough to pull me along before I could protest.

“Stephen—” I tried, but he didn’t stop.

He guided me out of the kitchen, through the hall, his steps steady, almost too steady. The house felt bigger in that moment, every shadow stretching, every echo louder than it should’ve been. My heart was thudding painfully, confusion and tension mixing into something heavier.

We climbed the stairs, and he didn’t stop until we were at the farthest corner of the mansion—a quiet, forgotten place that felt miles away from everything familiar.

My pulse wouldn’t calm. The silence between us was deafening. I didn’t know what he was about to say, or what I was about to feel. All I knew was that I could still taste the fear and shame of that night, and now, standing here, it felt like everything was about to unravel again.

Then immediately, Stephen’s mouth was on mine. It was messy, desperate, and wrong in every possible way. My whole body stiffened before my mind even caught up. His lips moved against mine like he was trying to prove something, like he wanted to erase Kevin’s name from my memory by force. The shock hit me first, then anger—pure, cold anger that jolted through my veins.

I shoved at his chest with both hands until he stumbled back a little. “Get away from me! What the hell are you doing?” The words came out sharp, breathless. My voice echoed faintly against the wall, trembling with more fear than I wanted him to hear.

But Stephen didn’t back down. He pressed a finger to his lips and whispered, “Shh…” before pinning me hard against the wall again. His body boxed me in, his breath hot and uneven against my cheek. Panic crawled up my throat.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his tone laced with something cruel, something mocking. “Did I startle you? Is this how it all started?”

I blinked at him, confused, terrified, furious all at once. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” My voice came out shaky, barely audible.

He gave a hollow laugh, the sound sharp enough to make my stomach twist. “Now you’re just gonna pretend you have absolutely no idea and play dumb?” His smirk cut through me, his eyes too wild to read.

“Get away from me!” I hissed, trying to twist out of his grip, but he didn’t move. His arm was firm against my shoulder, holding me in place as if letting me go would make him lose control completely.

“There’s a whole list of things you pretend not to see, Abby,” he said, his voice lowering but still vibrating with anger. “Especially when it comes to my feelings for you.”

I wanted to scream. Every word from his mouth made my skin crawl. “Stephen, I said get the hell away from me!” I shoved again, harder this time, but he didn’t budge. His strength overpowered mine easily, and that realization sent a chill straight through me.

He stared down at me, his jaw tight. “No! Because you don’t say that to Kevin when his hands are all over your body, do you?”

The words hit me like a slap. My lips parted, but nothing came out. I froze, staring at him, the weight of his accusation settling deep in my chest. I hadn’t expected that kind of venom from him—not Stephen, not the same man who used to look at me with softness. The hurt in his voice cracked through the fury, and it made it worse somehow.

“Stephen…” My voice broke, barely a whisper. I could feel the sting of tears already blurring my vision.

He leaned closer, his breath rough against my face. “Good thing I’ve got leverage,” he hissed.

My heart stuttered. “What?” I muttered, confusion spilling into fear.

He stepped back just enough to pull something from his pocket—his phone. A small, cruel smirk tugged at his lips as he tapped the screen. “I have a recording of you two from that night,” he said.

The words didn’t register immediately. My mind refused to understand. But then I heard it—the faint sound of my own moans, my soft giggles tangled with Kevin’s. The audio filled the air like poison, each second sinking into me deeper.

And when he showed me the video, it felt like the air was ripped right out of my lungs. My knees went weak, the world spun around me.

I felt crippled.