Chapter 116
Chapter 116
The next morning, | awoke to a world that felt heavier than usual. The news of Timothy and Stella had shaken me to the core, setting the mood before the day even began. As | left my apartment, | couldn’t shake the numbness that had settled into my bones.
With every step, my heels clicked mechanically on the glossy floor. The anger, the violence, the shattered dreams—it was all too much to bear. How had things gone so terribly wrong?
| tried to tell myself that | was being irrational. Timothy had already disappointed me with the Bruce situation. | shouldn’t have expected him to prove me wrong, but there’s a possibility that I'd hoped he would.
As | rounded the corner of the apartment hallway, my footsteps slowing, my heart ached at the sight before me. Timothy beside his apartment door, fumbling for his keys. His arms were covered in angry cuts, and his eyes held a certain dullness.
| reduced my pace to a slow stroll until | was standing beside him, observing his struggle. “What happened to you?”
He turned to face me, and the way his eyes brightened startled me. “Evie,” he breathed lightly, almost dropping the keys in his grasp. “I thought you'd already be at work.”
“lm running late,” | said quickly. “Why are you all banged up? Did something happen?”
Timothy paused for a moment, then looked down at the bandages on his arms. As he began to speak, | could only fear the worst. Bruce was still gone, and | was certain that he held a vendetta against Timothy just as much as he did me.
“Stella happened,” Timothy replied. | couldn't help but recoil at the mention of her name. “Stella?” | whispered, my heart sinking. “What did she do?”
Timothy's shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed on the ground. “She crashed my car last night,” he explained, the words laced with bitterness. “Ran us right into a ditch”
Asurge of anger and sorrow welled up inside me as | took in the extent of 1/5
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Timothy's injuries. The image of him riding alongside her, possibly for a night in the town or a luxurious date, seared its way into my mind. “Are you okay?” | asked weakly.
He nodded slowly, his eyes meeting mine, and in that moment, | saw a flicker of vulnerability. “I'll be fine,” he said hoarsely. “It’s just a few bruises and cuts. But my car is a wreck, so I’m stuck using the taxi service until it gets fixed.”
My heart ached for him, and my first instinct was to offer my help. It would have been natural before, practically one friend helping the other. However, | felt no dignity in helping him now.
| hesitated for a moment, and Stella’s mocking laugh entered my mind. That woman was known to be a piece of work, and he’d chosen her.
| wanted to say more, to offer some solace or advice, but my sympathy was quickly eroding. | knew | had to leave for work, and the clock was ticking away the
minutes. With a heavy heart, | shook my head. “| hope things get better,” | said, my words heavy with sincerity. “Take care of yourself, Timothy.”
As | walked away, my footsteps echoing in the hallway. | could feel his eyes trained. on me from a distance as | stepped into the elevator.
“Thank you....” | heard him mumble, right as the doors sealed shut.
| did my best to focus on my work, to shut out the constant buzzing of phones and the chatter of my colleagues, but the ever— watchful presence of Jasper made it nearly impossible. He lurked in the periphery of my vision, his gaze burning into me like a laser, and | couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease every time | sensed his eyes on me.
Erickson was no better. He continued to invade my space, hovering around my desk like a vulture waiting for its prey. Every time he passed by, a shiver of discomfort ran down my spine. | couldn’t shake the feeling that he was up to something, that he had some ulterior motive in mind.
The breaking point came when he called me into his office that afternoon. | hoped dearly that it wouldn’t be a repeat of that one night, when he’d cornered me at my
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desk and suggested that | offer him “special” favors.
My heart sank as | approached his door, my mind racing with all the possible. reasons for the summons. | stepped into the room, my apprehension growing with each passing second.
“Evie,” Erickson began, his voice oozing with false charm as he leaned back in his chair. “I couldn’t help but notice that you haven't been finishing any cases lately. Care to explain?”
| took a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to respond. “I’ve just been swamped with work.” | said tightly. “It’s been a hectic few weeks, and I’m doing my best to catch up.
Erikson’s eyes bore into mine, his smile never reaching his eyes. “I see,” he said. “Well, Evie, | could make things easier for you. Besides, a career like this gets a little lonely.”
| felt a chill run down my spine at his words. | knew exactly what he was insinuating, and | couldn't believe he was going there. “Mr. Erickson,” | said, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear, “I don’t need your help. especially not with romance...
Erikson’s smile never wavered, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Evie, you don’t understand. | could make your life so much easier as my wife. Think about it-your career could skyrocket in weeks.”
I squared my shoulders and met his gaze head-on. “Mr. Erickson, | will not engage in any inappropriate relationships to further my career,” | declared, my voice unwavering.
Erikson’s smile finally faltered, and he leaned forward, his tone icy. “You don’t know what you're missing, Evie.” | leaned in, challenging him despite his towering height. | couldn’t bite my tongue any longer. “I’m not interested.
With that, | turned and marched out of his office. Despite his desperation, he didn’t seem to protest this. If anything, he seemed even more pleased with himself.
| caught a flash of his nauseating smirk as | returned to my desk and gathered my 3S)
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things. | knew I had made the right choice in rejecting his advances, but | feared there would be repercussions outside of my control.
That evening, | found myself in a dimly lit bar, nursing a drink and trying to drown my troubles in alcohol. | was sitting at the counter when a familiar voice interrupted my thoughts..
“Evie? Is that you?”
| turned to find Jasper standing beside me, a look of surprise on his face. My initial. instinct was to dismiss him, to tell him that | wanted to be alone, but the alcohol had dulled my senses, and my words came out in a slurred, tired mumble.
“Jasper,” | started, my voice sounding gargled to my ears. “What do you want?”
He took a seat beside me, his eyes scanning my face with concern. “You look like you’ve had a rough day,” he remarked.Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.
| let out a bitter laugh, the alcohol loosening my tongue. “Rough doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Jasper ordered a drink for himself and turned his full attention to me. “Care to talk about it?”
| tried to process his words, but my loose tongue was already in action. “It’s Mr. Erickson,” | confessed immediately. “He’s been pressuring me, and today he...he made advances, Jasper.”
Jasper’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. “What do you mean, advances?”
| took a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush. “He suggested that he could make my life easier, help me with my career. He even said he wanted me to be his ‘office wife, or something. It was disgusting.”
Alook of anger crossed Jasper’s face, and he shook his head. “That son of a... How dare he?”
As | continued to talk, the alcohol loosening my inhibitions, | let slip the truth about Mr. Erickson’s actions—how he had gotten physical with me on multiple occasions, how his advances had escalated to harassment.
Jasper’s demeanor changed in an instant. He leaned in closer, his voice cold and calculating. “Tell me everything, Evie. Every detail.”
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| recounted the incidents with as much clarity as | could muster, my voice growing shaky as | relived the traumatic memories. Jasper listened intently, his anger replaced with a blunt curiosity.
When | had finished, he had a subtle smile on his lips. “That’s all | needed to hear.”
Before | could ask what he meant, he stood abruptly and threw a few bills on the bar to cover our drinks. “I'll take care of this, Evie,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You won’t have to worry about Mr. Erickson anymore.”
| watched him go, my mind clouded by the alcohol and my emotions in turmoil. | couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. It was Jasper, after all.
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