Chapter 34 #2
I cautiously pick up the wine-red ballgown, threading my fingertips through the delicate silk.
Fragments of memory flood back. Blood. Gunshots.
Harry. The blood splatter has been cleaned, erased as if it were never there, but I know it once was.
I know part of his DNA is written in the confines of this dress.
My phone sits beside my bent knees, and for a fleeting moment, as I sit in the closet hidden from the reality outside, I wonder whether he’d answer if I called.
Fuck.
It doesn’t matter, I remind myself, because you experienced temporary with him at the expense of forever with someone else.
I swallow the lump in my throat, bringing my face down to the fabric and letting out a scream into the garment. It shakes my shoulders. I scrunch the fabric between my fists, desperate to tear it apart.
As I stretch the stitching, something drops into my lap. A small, rectangular object, not much bigger than the palm of my hand.
A hard drive.
I pick it up, brushing off lint and dust as I rack my brain, trying to place it.
Oh. This is the reason Harry almost met death that night. We were on a heist to retrieve the hard drive from Paolo Ricci, having infiltrated his party in West London. Something about it holding information against Richard—
Oh my God.
My hands shake against the small object.
I’d been working with Paolo, desperate to get my hands on the drive, knowing it potentially held crucial information about Richard. He was desperate we retrieved it, knowing it could be damning to his reputation.
Holy fuck.
What if this is it? What if this holds the key to my salvation?
What if I could use his secrets as leverage to escape the marriage binding me to Jamie? What if the trafficking ring can be stopped and the girls can be saved?
What if this hard drive is the end to this madness?
There’s an old laptop stored in one of the drawers in the living room. Hope gets the better of me, and I’m suddenly scrambling to my feet. I throw the door open, rushing to exit.
I hit a hard wall, stumbling back into the closet.
I’m staring straight at the centre of Jamie’s chest.
Oh fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I dart my hand behind my back, closing my fist.
“What were you doing?” he asks.
His brows are stern, just like when his temper is about to unleash. Fear has me suddenly unable to speak, my mouth moving over nothing.
He presses again. “What are you doing, Gigi?”
“Nothing.”
Jamie hesitates, tracking my every movement. I squeeze the hard drive until it bites my palm, sealing it from his prying gaze.
“My room tonight.”
Surprise slams through me, widening my eyes.
It’s not up for debate.
I force a numb nod. “Okay.”
He nods too, a casual exchange. “Okay.”
Jamie returns to the living room. I follow a second later, sitting on the end of the sofa. I feel his gaze following me as I settle down. I hold my breath until he finally returns his attention to the TV screen.
My pocket burns as I slip the hard drive into place.
This could be my chance to rewrite my future, but I have to play it smart, otherwise I’ll lose everything. Again.
I lie beside Jamie, my body rigid under the sheet, every muscle tense as I listen to his ragged breathing. It’s late. The clock on the nightstand glows 2:17 a.m.
I’ve been lying here for hours now, staring at the ceiling while he snores beside me.
His breaths deepen, his heavy arm draped over my waist, and I know he’s out cold.
Slowly, I start to inch away, sliding my body towards the edge of the bed. The mattress creaks softly under me, and I freeze, my heart slamming against my ribs.
The sound dies away.
I lift my arm from under his, swinging my legs over the side.
My feet meet the wooden floorboards as I stand, and his breath hitches.
I stop dead. He stretches, his hand resting on the empty spot on the mattress.
His breathing evens, and relief washes over me.
I pull open the drawer of the bedside table, taking the hard drive into my palm.
I tiptoe out of the room, exiting into the hall.
In the living room, I pull the laptop out from its allotted space, perching on the end of the sofa. I flip the lid, and the screen lights up with a soft hum. My fingers quiver against the hard drive as I plug it into the USB port.
I dart my eyes towards the hallway every few seconds, half-expecting Jamie’s silhouette to appear. I return my focus to the laptop, my foot bouncing impatiently on the floor.
The hard drive’s icon pops up on the screen, a little folder waiting to be opened. I take a shaky breath and double-click on it, my heart pounding.
The laptop groans as the files start to load, and I gnaw at my bottom lip.
“Come on,” I whisper impatiently, darting another look over my shoulder.
I don’t know what I’m expecting. Something concrete, maybe. Photos, emails, legitimate proof of his wrongdoings – anything that will give me a chance of getting out of here.
My heart drops.
Lines of code scroll down the page, further and further, strings of letters and numbers that give away absolutely nothing.
“No,” I breathe, clutching the screen.
Tears sting my eyes, hot and angry. The code stares back at me, blinking mockingly, an impenetrable wall of text I can’t make sense of. It may as well be useless.
But I can’t give up. Not now I’ve tasted a glimmer of hope that potentially sits at the end of all of this.
Think, Gigi.
Fucking think.
Whizz Tech Dan, nicknamed the IT wizard for a reason. He’s learned everything about coding – it’d take him next to no time to reveal the answers underneath—
No. Too risky. He works closely with Richard.
My eyes flick back to the hallway.
There’s no sound, but still, I hold my breath.
And then, out of nowhere, it hits me.
Wait.
I take my phone, scrolling through my contacts, hesitating over Mia’s name. She always bragged she “knew a guy”. It was her thing – digging up dirt on people, having access to records no one else had.
She said if I needed anything, then to call her. And now here I am, at breaking point, prepared to call in the favour I shouldn’t be owed.
What if she doesn’t want to get involved? What if she takes back the sympathy she offered after she remembers the awful things I did?
Desperation wins, and I hit dial, anxiously pressing the phone to my ear, my heart pounding like a drum.
It rings once … twice … I hold my breath.
The line connects with a groggy, “Hello?”
“Mia,” I breathe. “I’m sorry to wake you. I don’t have a lot of time.”
There’s a pause, the sound of sheets ruffling, and a muffled curse.
“Gigi?” she asks, sounding half-awake. “What is it?”
“I need your help.” My words tumble out in a frantic whisper as I clutch the phone. “Are you still in touch with your guy – the one who used to help with our Mystery Monday and finding Jack?”
Another beat of silence, then she clears her throat, sounding a bit more alert.
“Fuck,” she mutters, taking a second to think. “It’s been a while, but I still have his number.”
My vision blurs with unshed tears, my hands shaking so badly I almost drop the phone.
“I-I have a hard drive that needs decoding. I hate to ask this favour of you, but I really need your help.” I close my eyes tight. “Please. I’m desperate.”
There’s a rustle on her end like she’s sitting up in bed. “Yeah, I’ll do it,” she says, clearing her throat. “Are you able to get it to me?”
I press my hand over my mouth, holding back the relief clawing up my throat.
“I’ll find a way.” I nod, mentally drafting scenarios where I can slip away for a few hours. “Mia, thank you.”
“It’s okay,” she says, letting out a yawn. “If that’s everything—”
“Wait.” I grimace as I look at the time again. “The interview for the engagement – you never posted it. Why?”
There’s a brief pause. I can almost hear her choosing her words.
“Oh, that old thing?” she says dismissively. “The whole thing got wiped – some error with the system. I guess not all stories are meant to be told.”
My chest tightens with a mixture of gratitude and something else. She isn’t spelling it out, but the implication is as clear as day. Mia buried the story to protect me.
At least one good thing came out of all this. One less person to blast my living hell across the papers.
“I guess so,” I say quietly, my voice barely even.
We hang up, my hands still trembling as I sit in the silence for a moment longer, letting the feeling of hope sink into my bones.