Chapter 38 Breaking and entering
THIRD PERSON’S POV.
Serena had been distracted all morning. At breakfast, she had accidentally broken her plate of pancakes. She apologized to the maid and blamed it on her thoughts being all over the place. But she knew that she knew that wasn't true.
Her mind was stuck in only one place.
Last night.
Her dress from the night beforestill smelled like Damian, she knows because she had snuggled with the dress while she slept.
She shouldn’t be feeling this way; her marriage to Damian was not a romantic affair, it was a business arrangement. Yet, she couldn’t hide the smile that spread across her face.
The loud ringing of her phone brought her back to consciousness.
“Hey, Trish. Good morning.”
“Hey girl,” Trisha said then paused, “why does it sound like you are on the road?”
“Because I am, I’m on my way to Damian’s office.”
“Isn’t it too early though? The press conference isn’t till afternoon.”
“I know, but his social media team asked me to come over so we can revise our statements.”
“Wait, he told his workers the marriage is fake?”
“No, no. It’s just a few trusted people, at least that’s what he said.”
“Hmm,” Trisha replied.
“And I needed to leave the house early,” Serena added. "I couldn't risk my father pulling another stunt like the one he pulled last night.”
“That’s fair. Alright baby, I’ll see you there in a few hours okay?”
“Okay.”
“Bye. Love you.”
“Wait, Trish,” Serena said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Please don’t be late, I don’t think I’ll be able to do this without you by my side.”
“Babe,” Trisha said gently, there’s no place I’d rather be, and even if for some crazy reason I end up not being there, I want you to know that you can do anything you put your mind to, you are no longer the naive Serena, you are strong, you are wise and you are a badass now.”
“That's true,” Serena chuckled,” But I still want my best friend with me.”
“And I’ll be there, Mama. Let me
Just go over these interview questions a few more times.”
With that, the call ended.
Serena felt strangely uneasy but she couldn’t understand why, she pushed her emotions aside and continued to stare out the window.
Jonathan moved through the house at full speed, his legs moved before his brain gave the command. He bumped into a maid turning a corner, he didn’t apologize, just kept moving.
How did Horace get that video, he thought. He could have sworn he destroyed every copy ever made.
Jonathan finally got into his car, and he heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes.
That night was a mistake, one he had paid a good price for it to be erased. He had just closed on a big deal and in a bid to celebrate. He found himself in a strip club.
The owner came to him and convinced him to try out their new recruit. She was young, barely a teenager. Jonathan knew it was wrong. Knew he should have turned the offer down but then his eyes landed on her full chest and reasoning left his body.
He had taken her to one of the VIP rooms in the club and he didn’t come out until she had properly satisfied him.
Days later, a video was sent to his email, which had the perfect view of him in the room with the girl and immediately he knew he had been set up.
He took a deep breath opening his eyes, if Horace sends that video to anybody he would be jailed for the rest of his life.
He shifted the car into drive and drove out of the Gregory compound.
Horace has sent him Trisha’s address, he wondered how Horace was able to get the address on such short notice.
It took a while to reach Trisha’s house because of how far it was from the road. When he got to the front of an ornate iron gate the map said he had reached his destination.
He stared at the house. It was a black and white colored duplex surrounded by rows of flowers, he didn’t see any staff running around.
He didn’t lie when he said he hadn’t kidnapped a person before, but then again, how hard could it be right? After all, she’s just a girl.
Trisha’s house was always quiet, she had made sure to get a house far from the streets to avoid all the traffic noise.
She sat at her desk scribbling things down on her notepad.
A dull thump echoed upstairs in her bedroom.
Her head snapped up, maybe she didn’t hear well.
Another thump.
That was weird, she didn’t have rats.
She pushed her chair back and stood up. When she saw the golf club leaning by the steps, she knew what she had to do.
She picked it, wrapping her hands firmly around it, and walked slowly, one step at a time until she got to the top of the stairs and to her bedroom door.
A bead of sweat formed on her forehead as she stretched a hand to the handle but she ignored it. She didn’t want to move and risk revealing her presence to the rat.
She took in a breath and she yanked the door open with a scream, the club raised high.
Nothing.
She paused.
There was nothing there, just a couple of her shoes that had fallen off the shelf, probably from the wind.
She bent to pick them up when another sound sent her screaming and reaching for her golf club that was now on the floor.
She relaxed when she realized it was her alarm clock ringing, signifying it was time to start preparing for the press conference.
Trish quickly went into the bathroom to draw a bath, forgetting all about the thumping, falling of things, and the supposed rat.
She moved hastily, sorting her jewelry and outfits and files.
Something broke downstairs.
And immediately she heard footsteps climbing up the stairs. She picked up her golf club again, that didn’t sound like a rat.
Trisha positioned herself beside the door, heart pounding, eyes locked on the handle as she waited for it to turn.
Time to put her Karate skills to good use.