Page 5 of Payback
“Your phrasing makes it sound negative,” I snapped.
“No, I admire women who carve their path, proving that even in a man-owed world, they still make their mark. You’ve accomplished that, Alison Brown, and you have even kept your name. After all, his name isn’t on the building. Initially, I was certain he had manipulated the financials, but then I discovered it was you.”
I swallowed hard, the chill of realization gripping my heart.
“I wasn’t aware you held such loyalty within you. I assumed Alison Brown’s allegiance was solely to herself. Yet, perhaps the desire to preserve your image overrides self-preservation in this instance,” he noted.
“I…”
“Scroll, and you’ll see the evidence. I have it all, Alison. You really should be more careful with what you leave in your office during those breaks. Next time, make your computer harder to hack,” he informed me.
“Pardon me?”
“Or perhaps become better at vetting the people you bring in for interviews,” he mocked.
“You’ve been here before?”
“A few times.”
I was bewildered, pulling back. I couldn’t believe someone like this man could evade my notice, and I hadn’t observed him visiting my workplace before. Although I’d never seen him outside my doctor’s office either. Did he have people working for him, or was he orchestrating all of this on his own?
“This goes beyond a minor crime now,” I informed him.
“You’re right. You’ve committed a terrible crime. Many, from what I’ve learned. Why don’t you continue?” he asked.
I glared at him, yet I already felt as though my hands were tied. I needed to know all the information he had on me and my family. There were files about my parents, nothing startling, and nothing I thought I couldn’t handle. But it became more challenging when he showed me information about my friends, the affairs, the debts, the cocaine issues, and then he circled back to my husband. I pressed a hand to my mouth when I saw an explicit photo of my husband balls deep in another woman. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to witness it.
“You’re aware that both blackmail and extortion are very serious felonies as well. So is rape,” he informed me.
“Pardon me?”
“Come now, why else would you pay that woman so much to leave the country? Surprisingly, she’s been difficult to track down, and even more challenging to make talk. She wouldn’t admit the word, but I can put two and two together. Your husband is a disgusting rapist, isn’t he?” he questioned.
“That’s outrageous! There was no rape!”
“You tell yourself that at night when you think about the $200,000 you gave her and a plane ticket to flee the country?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I snapped.
“Actually, Alison,” he said, his voice low and composed, making me shiver with fear. He folded his hands, resting them on my desk as he leaned forward. “I’m well aware of what I’m talking about. Your actions stopped surprising me long ago. I know what you’re capable of, and protecting a repugnant person like your husband doesn’t shock me.”
“It wasn’t rape!” I insisted.
“You paid her off, and with the way our justice system operates today, she gained more by accepting the money—paying for some therapy and going somewhere your husband couldn’t reach her,” he pointed out. “How old was she again? 23? Or 22?”
“Stop,” I pleaded softly.
“I’m sure you took your husband’s word for it just to ease your guilt, but what will the world think when they hear that you, a woman, won’t stand behind another woman who was assaulted by your own husband? You represent your gender when you stand on your own two feet, demonstrating that a woman can achieve incredible things independently. But no one will admire you once they learn you paid off a victim just to maintain your perfect image,” he warned, his tone growing harsher and darker as he spoke. “They will gather with pitchforks and torches, demanding you turn in your husband.”
“You’re wrong! He never raped her!” I defended, unwilling to expose the skeleton in my closet, because that truth would truly devastate me.
“I wish I could believe you, but I can’t,” he told me. “However, trust me, I don’t even need to reveal that to the public. Once I inform the authorities that you manipulated your company’s numbers to secure the funds needed to keep your husband financially afloat, it will be sufficient to bring you down and strip away everything you own. But don’t worry, Alison, I hear orange is in this year. You’ll still be dressed to impress as you consume prison food and enter into a lesbian relationship to survive in there.”
I began to tremble. His words conjured dreadful images in my mind. All of this before me wouldn’t merely result in my downfall. It would set my world ablaze. There would be no returning from this. I could never regain the person I once was. I was profoundly and genuinely entangled in a dire situation. My heart raced, pounding like a hummingbird’s wings. I felt on the verge of fainting, and tears welled up in my eyes, yet I resisted the urge to cry. What did this man want from me?
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered. “What have I ever done to you?”
“You still haven’t connected the dots. And here I thought I might have left a slight impression. After all, you tormented me for years. Can’t you remember at all where you’ve seen me before?” he asked, anger coloring his voice, clearly frustrated by my failure to make the connection. My brain worked tirelessly, attempting to decipher why this stranger held such a grudge against me, but nothing surfaced.
