Chapter 38 Call me PIMP
Elana stood there, frozen on the spot.
Her head spun for a minute and she almost wobbled.
“What?" She mumbled breathlessly.
There were no surgical tables, no glowing blue lights and no monitors or high-tech equipment.
It was just a cold, concrete basement room with a few storage crates and a water heater humming in the corner.
Elena looked down and the floor was spotless. There wasn't a single drop of Cassandra’s blood to be found.
"No," Elena gasped, spinning around in circles. "No, no, no. I saw it! I stood right here!"
She ran her hands along the walls, looking for any sort of hidden doors or buttons.
She spun in circles, searching for the glass partition she'd hidden behind yesterday, for anything.
But there was nothing but solid, damp concrete staring back at her.
She had to remind herself that she hadn't drank all day. Not even water. There was no way she could have been tipsy.
"Am I losing my mind?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Was it a dream? Did I hallucinate the whole thing?"
The memory was too vivid, the smell of the antiseptic, the dark scars in Julian’s back, the way Cassandra had looked like she was dying.
She'd seen the woman pull into the estate and step out of the car.
She saw Julian pick her up, all bloodied, to his study and then she trailed them to this place.
It couldn't have been a dream. “It was not a dream,” she muttered as if saying it would make it real.
But the evidence was gone.
Elena stood there for a few dazed seconds before she turned around and stumbled back up the stairs, her head spinning.
She went to Julian’s desk and began to tear through it. She opened his computer, her birthday worked as the password there too, but she found nothing but legal briefs, corporate filings for the Vance Group, and boring emails about court dates.
She checked the drawers, the filing cabinets, and the books. But there was nothing out of place. Absolutely nothing she could show to her father as an excuse to leave this sham of a marriage.
She sat on the floor, the kitchen knife clattering to the rug beside her. She felt like she was drowning.
Either Julian Thorne was the world's greatest magician, or she was truly losing her grip on reality.
She sat there for minutes, thinking of what she could possibly do to make this all right.
How could she get any evidence on him? How could she get her cold and perfect husband to finally tell her the truth or better still, let her go?
What was she thinking? Getting married to a total stranger just to pay off her family's debt?
Now the same family abandoned her totally and she was left in the mercy of the maniac who could be anything from a mad man to a murderer!
While she was still deep in thought, she heard an alarm that jerked her out to her reverie.
It was the reminder she'd set for taking care of the blackmail.
"I have to deal with what's real," she told herself, wiping a frustrated tear from her eye. "Francis is real. The money is real."
She pulled out her phone and quickly dialed Eva.
"Elena," Eva answered on the first ring, her voice sounding far too cheerful. "I was wondering when you’d call. Did you find a place to hide all that cash?"
"Did you send it?" Elena asked, ignoring the sarcasm. "I need it today, Eva. The deadline is almost up."
Just as she was speaking, she heard a loud ping.
A notification flashed at the top of Elena's screen.
It was a credit alert. The full amount had been transferred into her private account.
"I see it," Elena said, a massive weight lifting off her shoulders. "Thank you, Eva. I... I can't tell you what this means to me. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can, I promise."
"Oh, don't worry about the repayment in cash, sister," Eva said sweetly. "What are sisters for?”
Elena wasn't buying anybody that. “Eva, did you tell Father about this?"
"Oh, come on, we had a deal. I wouldn't double cross you.”
But Elena still couldn't shake the fact that Eva was acting too kind and carefree. It wasn't in her nature.
"What do you want?”
Eva laughed. "You know me too well, Elena. You know I do want something.”
"I will pay back as soon as I can, I promise. I just have to take it out of Julian in bits so he doesn't notice and ask questions. It's not so much money but he'll suspect something is wrong.”
“I told you before, I don't need you to repay me, the payment I want is in kind."
Elena frowned. "What are you talking about? What do you want? Do you want me to talk to Father about your standing in the company? Is that it?"
"Please," Eva scoffed. "I don't need you to talk to Dad. I want something much more interesting than a promotion."
"What then? Just tell me."
"I want a night with your husband," Eva said.
The world went silent. Elena felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me," Eva said, and Elena could practically see the smirk on her face. "You get the money, you get to keep your little secrets safe from the world, and in exchange, you give me a night with Julian."
"He’s my husband, Eva! He's your brother-in-law!" Elena shouted, her voice trembling with rage. "You slept with my fiancé, and now you want my husband? Are you that desperate to be me?"
"I don't want to be you, Elena," Eva laughed. "I just want what's mine. You were always the favorite, the heiress, the one who got the 'perfect' man. I just want to see if he's as perfect as he looks. One night. That's the price."
"I won't do it," Elena hissed.
"Then send the money back," Eva said coldly. "And sort yourself out alone. I’m sure Julian will be very understanding when he sees his wife's starring role in a scandal. The clock is ticking, Elena. Make your choice."
The line went dead.