Chapter 234: The Bait

Holly's POV

I'm not the type of girl that will shut her eyes when someone is clearly in danger.

Not if I can help.

“Come on,” I murmured, guiding her toward the empty conference room at the end of the hall. “Let’s get you cleaned up. No one will bother us in here.”

She didn’t protest, just leaned into me a little as we walked, her breathing still shaky. I closed the door behind us, and pulled out a chair for her. The room was dim, blinds half-drawn, the long table reflecting the gray light from the windows.

Amber sat down heavily, elbows on the table, face in her hands. I grabbed tissues from the box on the credenza and crouched in front of her.

“Hey…talk to me. What’s going on?”

She shook her head at first, shoulders trembling. Then a sob broke free…small, choked, like she’d been holding it in for years.

“It’s…it’s my ex,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Ryan. We broke up eight months ago, but he…he has pictures. Nudes she took of me when we were still together… When I thought I could trust him. He keeps threatening to post them everywhere…my family, my work contacts, online. He says he’ll ruin me.”

My stomach dropped. I stayed quiet, letting her get it out.

“He makes me send him money. Sometimes hundreds. And…and sometimes he makes me…” Her voice broke completely. She pressed her palms to her eyes as tears spilled over. “He makes me sleep with him. Says if I don’t, he’ll share everything. I don’t want to, Holly. I hate it. I hate how he touches me, how he looks at me like I’m nothing. Sometimes it hurts so bad I can’t even look at myself afterward. I feel…dirty. Used. Like I’m just a tool he picks up whenever he wants.”

The sobs came harder now, her whole body shaking. “I’m so tired. I’ve been carrying this alone for months. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. Some nights I just… I think about ending it all. Just making it stop.”

My heart shattered. Amber always looked cheerful and filled with life ever since I met her? Who would have thought she was going through all these alone?

I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight as she cried into my shoulder, her tears soaking through my blouse. She always appeared to be the strong one, the fixer, the girl who had everyone’s back. And this monster had been breaking her down in secret.

Manipulative, cowardly pieces of shit like him…I hated them with every fiber of my being. The way they twisted love into chains, used vulnerability as a weapon. I’d seen it before, heard stories, but watching it destroy someone as kind and bright as Amber? It lit something fierce and protective inside me.

No one deserved this. No one.

I pulled back just enough to cup her face, wiping her tears with my thumbs. “Amber, listen to me. Have you told anyone else? Your family? Friends?”

She shook her head, fresh tears welling. “No. I’m too ashamed. And scared.”

“What about the police? This is blackmail. Extortion. Sexual coercion. They can help—”

“No!” She cut me off, eyes wide with panic. “It’ll make it worse. He’ll release everything the second he knows I told someone. And I don’t want to drag anyone else into this mess. I just… I can’t.”

I nodded slowly, swallowing the urge to insist. She wasn’t ready. Pushing would only make her shut down again.

“Okay. Okay, we’ll figure this out together. But you’re not alone anymore, you hear me?” My voice hardened with resolve. “I swear, Amber. I’m going to teach that bastard a lesson he’ll never forget.”

She let out a watery huff, almost a laugh. “You?”

“Damn right, me.” I forced a small smile, trying to lighten the air just a fraction. “Now…show me a picture of this monster. I need to know what the asshole looks like.”

She hesitated, then pulled out her phone with trembling fingers. Scrolled through a few photos, stopped on one…an old selfie of them together. She turned the screen toward me.

I stared. He was…underwhelming. Thinning hair slicked back, weak chin, smug little smirk like he thought he was God’s gift.

I couldn’t help it. “Girl…why did you even date someone that ugly?”

Amber blinked, then a surprised bubble of laughter escaped her…real, even if it was small and tear-soaked.

“Well, love is blind?” She replied and we both launched into another fit of laughter and for a second the weight lifted. We both needed that.

But the moment shattered too soon.

A knock on the door…sharp, impatient. Then Sarah from accounting poked her head in without waiting. “Amber? Mr Norman is looking for you everywhere. Says it’s urgent.”

Amber stiffened instantly. She swiped at her face, drying tears with quick, frantic motions, forcing her expression back into something neutral. “Yeah. Coming.”

She stood, smoothing her skirt, giving me one last fragile look…gratitude, fear, exhaustion all mixed together…before slipping out.

The door clicked shut.

I sat there for a second, staring at her phone she’d left on the table in her rush. The photo was still open. His face. His number was right there in the contact info from an old text thread.

My pulse thrummed with quiet fury.

I pulled out my own phone and copied the number. Every digit.

Amber is too sweet to be going through this.

“Let me teach this man a little lesson,” I muttered to myself as ideas began to form.

I stayed in the conference room a minute longer, heart hammering against my ribs like it wanted out. Ryan’s number was burned into my brain. I’d already saved it in my contacts under the name…douchebag.

I opened a new message thread, thumbs hovering over the screen.

This was insane. Reckless. Probably illegal in six different ways.

But the memory of Amber’s broken voice…how she said sometimes it hurts so bad…how she said she almost thought of ending her life…kept looping in my head. No way was I letting that slimebag keep terrorizing her.

I started typing.

‘Hey Ryan. This is gonna sound random, but I’ve had the biggest crush on you for the longest time. Saw a couple of times and…damn. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you. Can we meet up? Just us. Tonight?’

I read it three times. Cringe. Perfect amount of desperate fangirl. Exactly the kind of message a douchebag like him would eat up with a spoon.

My finger trembled over Send. I hit it before I could talk myself out of it.

Message delivered.

I stared at the screen, stomach twisting into knots. What if he didn’t bite? What if he asked how I got his number? What if he suspects that it's foul play?

Thirty seconds. Nothing.

One minute. Still nothing.

I started pacing the small space in front of the conference table, chewing my thumbnail down to nothing. Come on, you ego-driven creep. Take the bait.

Then…ping.

My phone lit up.

Ryan: Well damn. Who is this fine thing blowing up my phone? How lucky can you be to want me? How badly do you want me?

I almost threw the phone across the room. Less than two minutes. Of course the bastard responded that fast. He probably kept his notifications on loud just in case fresh prey wandered into his trap.

He thinks any girl is lucky to want him? Obnoxious bastard. I exhaled slowly, steadying myself.

Me: I’d rather show you in person. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.

Ryan: Straight to the point. I like that. When and where, baby?

Baby. I wanted to vomit.

But I typed back fast, before the rage made me slip.

Me: There’s a little bar called The Red Door on 5th and Harlow. Quiet booth in the back. 7 tonight?

Ryan: 7 works. Wear something easy to take off. I don’t like waiting.

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt.

Me: Wouldn’t dream of keeping you waiting, handsome.

Ryan: Good girl.

The phone rang suddenly…his name flashing on the screen. Douchebag.

Shit.

My whole body went rigid. Did he already smell something off? Was my story too thin? Why the hell is he calling?

I stared at it ringing, thumb frozen. Answer it, Holly. You started this.

I cleared my throat twice, forced my voice into something breathy and excited, and swiped accept.

“Hello?” I said, all wide-eyed innocent even though he couldn’t see me.