Chapter 141 Blackmail
~Hermes~
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I can feel my heart shatter into a thousand jagged pieces as I sit against the door she just closed, back pressed hard against the wood. I want to scream, but all that comes out is a hollow silence. I hope she can somehow hear the internal chaos, the reason I can’t choose her.
I’d let the company burn for her… but at what cost?
Her words echo in my head, sharper than any blade.
"I hate you, Hermes, and I pray that in my next life, I never cross paths with you again."
They twist in me like a dull knife, relentless, unforgiving. She hates me… and I deserve it.
I don’t even know how to protect her. I say I love her, but I can’t love her the way she deserves. I can’t shield her from Natalya, from this mess I’ve built around us. It’s better… she hates me.
I’ll carry her words to my grave. And if, by some impossible chance, life gives me another shot, I pray I’m not the man I am now. That I can love her properly — without dragging her into the chaos of my complicated, messy world.
I wet my lips and stand, scolding myself for letting her quit. Her job — something she worked so hard for… and I let her walk away. My fist tightens at my side. I have to do something — anything — to fix this.
Just then, my phone rings. I stride over to the bedside table and grab it.
My face darkens the instant I see the caller. Natalya.
I don’t answer. I can blame myself a thousand times for hurting June, but Natalya? She’s the main villain here, and I’m going to deal with her.
The phone rings for a while, then stops. Almost immediately, a message flashes across the screen:
~Hermes! You can't bail out of the dinner you promised you would go to. Your father and my father will be there, remember. Come now!~
I frown, brows pinching. Dinner? What dinner? I don’t remember promising anything. And since when did my father agree to eat with her father?
Where are they having this dinner?
My mind spins with questions, all colliding at once. I can’t remember. I don’t remember.
The phone rings again. This time, I answer.
"Finally, you decided to pick up. What’s taking so long? I’ve been calling," Natalya’s frustrated voice echoes through the line.
I ignore her tone. "Where are you?" I ask, sharp.
"At home, of course," she replies, annoyingly calm.
"Stay there," I snap, and cut the call.
This time, I’m going to make her pay for what she did to June. No games. No excuses.
I step into the house, and immediately notice the maids bustling around, fixing and redecorating everything.
I pause, brows furrowed. What the hell is going on? Who are these people? Is this… where the dinner is supposed to be?
Before I can think further, a maid approaches.
"Welcome back, Master Hermes," she says, moving to remove my coat.
Confused, I let her do it, my mind already scanning the house for Natalya.
It doesn’t take long. She’s descending the stairs, phone in hand, all dolled up, completely absorbed.
I huff through my teeth, stride straight to her. "What the fuck did you do?"
"Huh?" Natalya glances up, a faint smile on her lips. "C’mon, Hermes, I had to make some changes since you didn’t want to do anything. I can’t let Uncle Lucien see his family house like this, so I hired maids and guards. Doesn’t this look familiar to you? This was how our life was before—"
"Shut up." I snap, cutting her off, my voice sharp. "You know that’s not what I’m talking about. So I’ll ask again—what the fuck did you do?"
I realize my voice came out too loud when a few maids glance our way. I lower it, teeth grinding.
"Let’s talk about that later," Natalya says quickly, brushing past me. "We have to pick up Uncle Lucien and my father."
"The hell you are," I growl, catching her wrist before she can move another step.
"Let me go, Hermes!" she snaps, but I don’t. I drag her upstairs, ignoring her protests until we reach my study. I slam the door shut behind us and finally release her.
"What did you tell June?" I demand, my voice low but shaking with fury.
Natalya rubs her wrist, glaring at me. "I can’t believe you’re doing this to me—because of that girl." She scoffs, venom in every word. "If you must know, I told your little girlfriend the truth. I gave her a reality check. I explained where she stands in our world."
I rub my temple, fighting to keep my temper in check.
"You made her quit," I say through clenched teeth. "You fucking made her quit her internship."
Her eyes widen — real shock flickering across her face. I didn’t expect that.
"What do you mean quit?" she asks, voice trembling slightly. "She can’t quit."
"Why?" I shoot back, genuinely confused. "Isn’t that what you wanted all along? For her to disappear?"
Natalya’s tone drops, cold and final. "No. She’s not going anywhere." She steps closer, eyes narrowing. "Not until I tell her to."
I let out a bitter laugh. "Really? So what now, Natalya? You plan to beg her to come back?"
She laughs too — a sharp, humorless sound that makes me pause. "Me?" she says, shocked. "Natalya Voss? Beg?"
Before I can answer, her phone vibrates. She glances at the screen, her eyes gleaming maliciously, then slowly turns it around toward me.
My breath catches.
On the display — June, leaving the hotel room. Then me.
My heart drops straight to my stomach.
"What the fuck is this, Natalya?" I snarl, reaching for the phone, but she’s faster — stepping back with that smug smile curving her lips.
"No need to be dramatic," she says. "I was just doing a little research. I knew you were meeting your little girlfriend today."
"Delete it. Now."
She chuckles, tucking the phone behind her back. "Oh, Hermes," she sighs, walking toward my desk as though she owns the room. "You don’t get to make demands anymore."
She sits down, crossing her legs with deliberate grace. "Here’s what’s going to happen: you’ll tell your little intern to come back to work and continue her work as my secretary."
I stare at her, every muscle in my body tight.
"Because," she continues sweetly, "I want her to be there. I want her to see me in my wedding dress… marrying you."
I bite the inside of my cheek, hard enough to taste blood. This has gone from manipulative to dangerous.
"And if she doesn’t come back," Natalya adds, her voice dipping low, "I’ll make sure this recording — and a few others — reach the press. Let’s see what happens when the world finds out that the poor, grieving CEO was been seduced by a little gold-digging intern in order to climb the social ladder."
She smiles. "Imagine what that will do to her life."
I don’t say anything. My mind is spinning — fury, panic, guilt — all of it twisting together until I can barely breathe.
Natalya stands, brushing imaginary dust off her gown. "So here’s what you’ll do. Get dressed," she says, patting my shoulder like I’m a child, "while I pick up Uncle Lucien and my father. We’ll have a nice dinner, talk about the wedding, and you’ll pretend like everything’s fine."
She smirks before walking out, leaving me frozen in place — choking on the realization that I’ve just lost control of everything.