-49-
Yasmi n
This all felt like a dream. I was officially married to the love of my life, Rafael, and we were about to start our first night together as husband and wife. The reception lasted into the wee hours of the morning and, as my best friend Amirah predicted, I was far too exhausted to even think about consummating our marriage. Luckily, Rafael was content to hold me as we slept. His arms wrapped around me felt like home, and I drifted off to sleep with a smile.
I woke up to the feel of lips being pressed to my forehead. I slowly opened my eyes to see my now-husband Rafael leaning over me with a soft smile. His dark eyes sparkled with warmth as he whispered. "Good morning, my beautiful wife. "
A smile spread across my face. "Good morning, husband," I replied, the words feeling oddly addictive on my tongue. "I love calling you that."
He chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers of delight through me. "And I love calling you my wife," he admitted, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. "My beautiful wife."
Before either of us could say anything else, Rafael’s phone rang. He quickly took the call, his eyes fixed on me the entire time. His carefree expression clouded with annoyance and fury, like a storm brewing on the horizon. I watched, my heart pounding in my chest, as he muttered curt responses into the phone.
“Yeah… No, I don’t care… Fine, I’ll handle it,” he said, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. When he ended the call, I immediately demanded. “Who was that?”
“It was your brother,” he replied, his jaw clenched.
My brother? I thought, my mind racing. Why would Khalid call Rafael at this hour?
“Why did Khalid call you?” I pressed, trying to keep my voice steady despite the growing unease curling in my stomach.
Rafael sighed and ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “Yasmin, you need to get dressed. Now.”
“But—”
“No buts,” he cut me off. “Get dressed first, and then we’ll talk.”
I wanted to argue, to demand answers right there and then, but something in his eyes told me it was serious. Reluctantly, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, my mind swirling with worry. Rafael was already dressed by the time I finished, pacing the room with a tense energy that made me even more anxious.
Finally, he made me sit down on the edge of the bed. “Ethan made a threat yesterday,” he began, his voice grim. “He’s threatening to expose you by posting scandalous photos of you online.”
“What?” I blurted out, completely shocked. “That’s impossible. There’s no way he has any scandalous photos of me. Even when in bed with him I always wore pajamas or at the very least, my bra and panties.”
Rafael looked at me, his expression softening slightly with concern. “I know, Yasmin. But he’s claiming otherwise. He’s saying he has something that will ruin you.”
I felt a cold chill run down my spine. “How could he even get such photos? There’s no way…”
“I don’t know,” Rafael admitted, frustration evident in his voice. “But he sounded serious. We have to figure out what he has and how he got it.”
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. “What did he say exactly?”
“He said he’d post them online if we don't meet his demands. He didn’t specify what those demands were, but he wants to talk to you directly.”
My head was spinning. This didn’t make any sense. Ethan and I had our differences, sure, but this was a whole new level of betrayal. “Why would he do this? What does he want from me?”
Rafael shook his head. “I don’t know. But we need to be careful. He’s trying to blackmail you.”
I nodded, feeling a mix of anger and fear. “I won’t let him control me like this. We have to stop him.”
Rafael squeezed my hand reassuringly. “We will. But first, we need to play it smart. We can’t let him know we’re onto him just yet. Let’s see if we can get more information without tipping him off.”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Okay. What’s the plan?”
“First, we'll confront him and find out exactly what he’s holding over you. But we have to be subtle. If he knows we’re investigating, he might act out of desperation.”
I nodded, my mind racing with possibilities. “I’ll talk to him. Maybe I can get him to reveal more without realizing it.”
Rafael frowned, clearly not thrilled with the idea. “I'm not sure that's a good idea.”
“I can handle it,” I said firmly, though I wasn’t entirely sure. “I need to do this. This is my mess. I should be the one to clean it up.”
He sighed. "I really don't think it matters if this is your mess or not. We're a team, a family. We're in this together. Besides your dad would murder me if he thought I didn't try to stop you."
I felt terrible that Ethan was once again proving to be a problem, and now I was even more nervous to find out what was in the letter he sent me. The constant stress gnawed at me, my thoughts tangling into knots as I tried to focus on anything but the sealed envelope. Ethan had always known how to twist the knife, and this felt like another one of his cruel games.
Rafael's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Yasmin, are you okay?" His tone was gentle but laced with worry.
Without a word, I got up, ignored Rafael's concerned questions, and reached for the letter in my suitcase. The envelope felt heavier than it should have as if it carried the weight of every anxious thought since I'd had it. I turned it over in my hands, the edges slightly worn from my nervous handling.
Rafael was watching me, his eyes a mix of concern and curiosity. I walked over to him and held out the letter. "It's from Ethan," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to accept it, but Amirah took it anyway when Ava and Cheryl cornered us. I've kept it until now because... I was afraid of what was inside."
Rafael’s expression softened. He reached out and took my hand, his touch warm and grounding. "It's okay, Yasmin. Whatever is in there, we'll deal with it together. You don’t have to do this alone."
His reassurance gave me a sliver of courage. I nodded, taking a deep breath. With Rafael by my side, I felt a little braver, a little stronger. I slid my finger under the envelope flap and carefully pulled out its contents.
Inside, there were photographs. The first few were innocent enough—me sleeping, lounging by the pool. But then my breath caught in my throat. The next set of photos was the same with one stark difference. They were expertly edited, showing me in compromising positions, supposedly naked. My hands began to tremble as I handed them to Rafael.
Rafael’s jaw clenched as he looked at the photos. "This is sick," he muttered, his anger barely contained. "Why would he do this?"
There was also a note. My stomach churned as I unfolded it and read Ethan's scrawled handwriting: I hope this shows you how serious I am when I say you need to take me back, or else these photos will make the 7 o'clock news.
I felt a cold wave of dread wash over me. I handed the note to Rafael, unable to speak. His eyes scanned the words, and I saw the anger build in him.
"This is blackmail," Rafael said, his voice tight. "That son of a bitch! We can't let him get away with this."
I sank onto the couch, feeling overwhelmed. "But what can we do? He's already proven he can get create a false narrative. What if he has more? What if he follows through on his threats? I didn't even know he took these photos."
Rafael sat beside me, taking both my hands in his. "Listen to me, Yasmin. I won't let him intimidate you, not while I am alive."
His determination was comforting, but the reality of the situation weighed heavily on me. "I just don't understand why he can't let go. Why he has to keep hurting me."
Rafael squeezed my hands, his eyes softening with empathy. "Some people can't stand the idea of losing control. Ethan seems like one of those people. But his behavior is not your fault. You have every right to live without worrying about what he'll do."
"What are we going to do now?"
"We're going to have dinner with our family," he announced. "Khalid finally broke the news to your dad and he's out for blood."