Page 4 of Payback
“Of course! It’s a crime!” I asserted, though I couldn’t pretend to be overly concerned about Jared’s medical record. The truth was, only my husband, doctor, and I knew my fertility struggles, and I had hoped to keep it that way. Now, this enigmatic stranger had somehow obtained this confidential information, and I understood the implications it held for me. In our world, upholding a flawless image was imperative. I couldn’t allow this situation to tarnish the perception people held of me. While my company might not suffer, given the widespread prevalence of similar issues among women, within my social circle, I foresaw how they would judge me. They would interpret it as a vulnerability, and I was resolute in avoiding any appearance of weakness. It was paramount to me that I remained perceived as a strong woman.
“Why don’t you continue scrolling?” he asked.
“I believe I’ve seen enough! I’m dialing the police,” I declared, extending my hand toward my phone.
“I wouldn’t recommend that course of action, Alison.”
The tone he used to speak my name held a sinister one, a subtle menace that persisted despite his simple utterance.
“Proceed scrolling,” he commanded.
The smile had vanished, replaced by an icy stare that sent a chill through me. I believed I had mastered the art of delivering such a cold look, one that instilled fear in others. Yet now, I found myself at the receiving end. Gradually, I set down my iPhone, sensing my heart pounding wildly within my chest. I was scared to continue, reluctant to unveil the contents concealed within those yellow-labeled files. Yet his directive was unmistakable, and the threat emanating from his eyes conveyed that if I didn’t comply, no mercy would be granted.
Chapter 2
-Alison-
Gradually, I returned my attention to the computer screen. I stowed away the file containing my concealed secret and moved on to the next one. This file wasn’t centered on me. It revolved around my husband. It showcased instances of him attending late meetings with other men. I failed to discern how this could tarnish my husband’s image, or how it connected to me. Wasn’t this meant to be some sort of scandal targeting both of us?
“I’m struggling to grasp this one,” I confessed.
“File 3?” he clarified.
“Yes,” I affirmed.
“Your husband’s company faced challenges a few years back, correct?” he posed a question that sent a shiver down my spine.
His inquiry cast a shadow of apprehension over me. “So, these meetings involve potential investors?”
“More like vultures ready to exploit a dying creature,” he corrected with a dark undertone.
“What?” I was taken aback.
“That meeting was the final nail in his company’s coffin. He placed his trust in the wrong people, and they took advantage of him. They aimed to buy his business for next to nothing. Strangely, he managed to navigate through that tough time,” the stranger explained. “It’s quite perplexing, considering the financials. His best option would’ve been to salvage what he could and start anew. But that never happened. Suddenly, the situation turned around. It would’ve required an astronomical amount of funds.”
“Our families are rich, to say the least,” I reasoned.
The stranger’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “I’m fully aware. We’re talking about millions here.”
“We do possess substantial wealth.”
“Even so, his family advised him to sell off whatever he could and find contentment in evading bankruptcy.”
“Of course they did. They were supportive,” I attempted to deflect, seeking an escape from the mounting tension. The truth was different. His family had failed him. His own father declined to support his own son, reluctant to provide the necessary funds to help him recover. He deemed my husband as unworthy due to his misplaced trust. My parents weren’t exactly forthcoming either, and the amount required for my husband’s recovery was considerable.
“No, they weren’t. Continue scrolling, and you’ll see their correspondence,” he said, confirming my suspicions. The messages exchanged between my husband and his father unraveled before me.
“You’ve hacked into my husband’s private emails?” I exclaimed in disbelief.
“I indeed have. I share his father’s viewpoint. He should’ve relinquished that ill-fated company. But a man doesn’t easily accept a metaphorical public castration. It’s a humiliating experience,” he disclosed.
“And rightfully so.”
“Yes, but how did he manage to weather the storm?” he probed. “Your company is flourishing.”
“That’s correct.”
“Couldn’t allow his wife to outshine him, could he?” the stranger quipped. “At first, I anticipated discovering some deception—a husband secretly tampering with numbers behind his wife’s back. To my astonishment, you’re more devoted than I assumed, Alison. I expected you to abandon him, let him face his challenges alone, wrap it up with a swift divorce, and embrace your independence.”
