Chapter 7 Oops, Did I Do That?
Present Day
July 10th
Jamaica
Laila Malik
“I can’t look at another photo,” Jay said weakly, wincing as Laila snuggled up next to him on Montego Bay Beach.
“Once more for the ‘gram,” Laila insisted, forcing a strained smile as she poised her fingers over her phone.
“Laila, our flight leaves in an hour. We have to go—” Jay pulled away before she could snap a photo of them together.
Laila huffed in annoyance. Typical. Taking a deep breath to regain her composure, she turned the camera toward herself and snapped a quick selfie, ensuring her new bikini was prominently in the shot.
“Just Jammin’ back to Chi-Town,” she typed, hitting post without another thought.
The flight back to Chicago meant she’d be offline for four hours. She needed to make sure her feed was packed with glowing, carefree, and—most importantly—happy photos. Impatiently refreshing her Instagram, she frowned. Gabriel hadn’t viewed any of her stories in the last 24 hours.
She sighed in disappointment.
“Lai, were you always this into social media? Is this, like, a new hobby or something?” Jay asked, watching her with mild confusion as their cab wound through the streets toward the airport.
She hadn’t meant for it to become a hobby. But knowing Gabriel was watching had become intoxicating. She couldn’t stop posting, hoping he liked what he saw. It was thrilling knowing she had this little secret.
“I just want to document every moment in case I have trouble remembering it later,” she said, ignoring the twinge of guilt at exploiting her husband’s concern. But, like gas, it quickly passed.
“You’re right. You’re right,” Jay mumbled, searching for something else to say. “Wasn’t Jamaica relaxing? I thought Bob Marley’s childhood home was incredible. Imagine causing societal change and bringing people together with your music. The man was a legend.”
As Jay reminisced, Laila’s eyes remained firmly on her phone.
“Uh-huh,” she murmured. “Did you think I looked good in my bikinis?”
Jay blinked at her, nonplussed. “I thought you looked like a normal woman wearing what she needed to swim.”
Laila pressed. “Did you think I looked hot?”
“Oh look, there’s the airport. Right on time,” Jay muttered under his breath.
As they checked in and got settled, Jay’s phone beeped. His eyes widened.
“Lai, our alarm is going off at the house. This isn’t good.”
“I’m sure it’s fine. Probably an IT glitch or something,” Laila waved it off airily.
Jay said nothing for the remainder of the trip, but she could feel the tension radiating off him. They stayed like this for the entire flight home—him preoccupied with the alarm, her unsure if she even mattered to him anymore.
Landing Back in Chicago
Jay was in a rush to get home. Yanking their suitcases off the conveyor belt, he hailed the first cab he could find. Laila’s stomach dipped. Hopefully, the security alarm wasn’t a sign of something truly terrible.
“Hey, Mrs. Malik, nice to see you back again so soon. I like the outfit change,” Harold, their doorman, greeted her with a grin.
“Thanks, Harold,” Laila replied, bemused.
“Harold, did you notice our security alarm was triggered?” Jay asked, his voice tight.
“Um... no. Nothing unusual on my end.” Harold frowned as he checked the system. His eyes widened. “My apologies, sir. I just noticed the alert. I’ll notify the police right away. Hopefully, it’s just a false alarm.”
“Let’s hope so,” Jay murmured.
He said nothing else, his face taut with anxiety. Laila bit her lip and followed him into the elevator. She tried to reach for his hand, but he shrugged her off, eyes locked on his phone.
“Why are all the cameras turned off?” Jay’s frustration was evident.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Laila said, forcing her voice to stay calm. But inside, anxiety surged like a tidal wave, crashing against her chest.
When the elevator doors opened, she hesitated, her pulse thundering as they approached their penthouse.
The front door was wide open.
Dread curled in her stomach.
They stepped inside cautiously. Laila’s breath hitched.
Gabriel lay bound and gagged on their living room floor.
She let out a strangled cry.
Present Day
July 10
O’Hare Airport
Kat Kar
Kat and Christian sat in stunned silence on the plane. They had booked economy seats—not out of necessity, but because neither of them felt worthy of business class.
“Should we have called an ambulance?” Kat whispered for the umpteenth time, wincing as a baby wailed in the background and a toddler relentlessly kicked the back of her seat. “He was kind of bleeding a little.”
“Sure. And while he was getting bandaged up all pretty, you and I would’ve been hauled away in cuffs,” Christian snapped, gritting her teeth as the man beside her coughed without covering his mouth.
Kat pulled the envelope from her backpack. Both of them stared at it apprehensively.
“What could be so important that it needs a safe with a trigger alarm?” she murmured.
“Only one way to find out,” Christian replied.
Kat hesitated, then carefully opened the envelope and unfurled the pages. They read in slow, deliberate silence.
“Oh my God,” Kat breathed.
“Sweet baby Jesus in heaven—we have to let this woman know.”
“How?” Kat cried. “Just call her and say, ‘Oh hey, while we were robbing you, we came across something crazy you really need to know about yourself’?”
“She does need to know!” Christian repeated, gripping her armrest in frustration.
“It’s a lot,” Kat protested. “It’s too much! And it’s not our responsibility.”
They tried to lean back in their seats, but the toddlers behind them had turned their chairbacks into punching bags, so instead, they slumped forward, resting their faces in their palms.
Kat should have felt elated. They had pulled it off. Everything had gone according to plan—minus Gabriel, the security alarm, and a classified document they were never supposed to find.
Instead, she felt sick.
Laila Malik was a good person. Every glowing article Kat had ever read about her painted a picture of someone genuine and hardworking. Had Kat been in L.A. so long that she no longer appreciated good people?
“Christian...” Kat’s voice wavered, her eyes suddenly glassy with uncertainty. “I don’t know what to do next.”
Christian shifted in her seat, awkwardly patting Kat’s shoulder.
“Neither do I.”
Present Day
July 10
Chicago
Laila Malik
“Oh my God—Gabriel!” Laila screamed, turning wide, beseeching eyes on Jay, unsure what to do next.
Jay stared at her incredulously. “You know him?”
“Yes! He’s my client. He’s our neighbor. Help me untie him—we have to call the police!” Laila scrambled to unfasten the gag around Gabriel’s mouth. She cupped his face gently. “Gabriel? Gabriel, can you hear me? Jay, can you get me some water and towels?”
Jay scoffed. “Why? Is he planning on giving birth?” He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Laila, what if he’s part of whatever happened here? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve been burglarized.” His voice sharpened. “I’m calling our so-called security team and then the police. But I don’t think you should move him or touch anything else.”
“Jay, how can you say that? He’s bruised, and there’s blood on the floor!” Laila’s voice rose. “I know him. He wouldn’t do this. He isn’t capable of hurting me—” she hesitated, then amended quickly, “— us .”
Ignoring Jay, she worked to free Gabriel’s hands and feet, scanning them for cuts and bruises.
Gabriel groaned. His eyes fluttered open.
“Laila?” he murmured, his voice thick with confusion.
“Hi there, it’s me. I’m here. I’m getting you some water.” Laila rushed to the kitchen, returning with a glass. He drank quickly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“There were two girls... they were dressed like Pussycat Dolls... I don’t remember,” he mumbled, his voice fading.
Jay, now in the bedroom, was on the phone with the police. His sudden outburst carried through the apartment.
“Those absolute bastards! They took my watch collection and cufflinks!”
Laila barely reacted. She was focused on Gabriel.
“Let’s get you over to the sofa,” she murmured, helping guide him to his feet.
His weight pressed heavily against her side, his warmth seeping into her skin. Her pulse fluttered. He smelled like soap and musk, his stubble thicker than when she’d last seen him.
A treacherous thought slipped into her mind. I wonder how that would feel against my thighs.
She slapped a hand over her mouth. Had she said that out loud?
Gabriel groaned and leaned on her. “I was worried about you,” he admitted. “After L.A., I couldn’t get a hold of you. I lost your card, and everything happened so fast.” He attempted to sit but immediately lay back down when the room spun. “I came to return your shoes—”
“What happened in L.A.?”
Jay’s voice sliced through the air.
He stood in the bedroom doorway, his steps slow and deliberate as he approached. His expression was unreadable, but the weight of his suspicion was unmistakable.
“What happened in L.A. that made this man want to return your shoes?”
Laila’s mouth opened, ready to defend herself—
A sharp knock on the door interrupted her.
“St. Regis Security.”
The voice was timid.
Jay shot Laila a warning look. “This isn’t over.” Then, without another word, he went to answer the door.
The head of security, Sven, entered with an apologetic expression.
“Mr. and Mrs. Malik, the authorities are on their way. I have no idea how this could have happened. As you know, we have extreme security measures in place, and we pride ourselves on keeping our tenants safe in these trying times...”
Laila wasn’t listening.
Gabriel was shaking. His eyes fluttered closed again.
Panic seized her. “My friend is unconscious—we need an ambulance now .”
Sven’s demeanor shifted. He quickly radioed a colleague. “We need a medic ASAP. Unconscious man at the scene.”
Laila pressed two fingers to Gabriel’s neck. His pulse was steady, but the bump on the back of his head was alarming.
And then there was Jay’s accusation.
Her stomach twisted.
She hadn’t done anything wrong... yet .
A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered otherwise.
“Mrs. Malik, an ambulance is on the way,” Sven reassured her. “In situations like these, we’ll be reviewing the security footage to determine what went wrong and how we can rectify it.”
Situations like these.
The phrase echoed in her head.
Her home was now a crime scene.
She was a victim of a crime.
“Mrs. Malik? Mrs. Malik?”
She snapped out of her daze.
Sven was watching her with concern. “Why don’t you sit down until the police arrive? I’ll speak with Mr. Malik about what he noticed when he first got here.”
Laila sank onto the armrest of the sofa, her mind swirling.
Jay gave her one last, pointed look—disgust flashing in his eyes—before following Sven into the kitchen.
July 14
Los Angeles
Kat Kar
Kat cataloged the last piece of jewelry and placed it on the kitchen counter, next to the other five neat rows, all glinting and winking back at her with a sharpness that felt like a threat.
They had run out of space in their tiny one-bedroom with a “spacious nook” apartment. The spoils of their conquest were strewn about the kitchen counter, dining table, and even draped over their lamp. Kat hadn’t been able to stop moving since coming back from Chicago. She hadn’t been able to sleep. Every time she stared up at the ceiling, a heavy weight pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Which meant she stayed upright at all hours of the day and night. She paced in small circles within the confines of their apartment. Replaying what they had done to that poor man. Wishing they had done things differently... or maybe not at all.
She had tried to journal in the wee hours of the morning, but then realized everything she wrote was evidence that might incriminate her. So, she kept the confusion, resentment, and fear bottled up. Her nails dug into her palms every time she felt like screaming.
“Kat, Kat, wake up,” Christian snapped her fingers in front of Kat’s face.
Kat blinked. “What happened?”
“I ran into Mrs. Templeton and Cory again,” Christian said, adjusting her hair scarf in annoyance. “They were out front, talking to some new tenants. They’ve already decided we won’t be able to pay the rent. They want their money, and fast, or they’ll throw us out on our asses in two weeks with no remorse. And I do not want to move back in with Aunt Clarise. And I know you don’t want to go back to Indiana.” Christian glared at her pointedly.
“We have their rent money, it’s all here.” Kat gestured at the scattered jewelry on the counter.
“Uh-huh. And are we planning to sell it any time soon? Because I don’t think Mrs. Templeton is going to accept the emerald necklace or the Celine Fedora Hat as payment.” Christian chewed the Bengali paan Kat’s mother had given her, smacking her lips like a goat gnawing on cud.
Kat snapped, “Well, sorry I’ve been a little distracted, Christian. Glad to see you’re able to handle almost killing a man so easily—”
Christian shrugged. “God’s will be God’s will.”
“How can you be so flippant?” Kat exploded at Christian.
“How can you sit there, hour after hour, dwelling on the past, when you literally came up with this whole plan so you could have a better future? We pulled it off, Kat. We should be celebrating!” Christian winced as she accidentally sat on a Swarovski hair pin.
“Because I was wrong!” Kat wailed. “I’m just an influencer who is faking her entire life for people to scroll through, while they take their morning dump.” Kat found it hard to breathe again. She started wheezing uncontrollably.
Before Christian could find Kat’s inhaler, someone knocked on the door.
Kat looked at Christian, feeling an eerie premonition of déjà vu. “Don’t open the door, Christian!”
A loud booming voice exploded from the other side. “Chouchou, where is my chouchou at?”
Christian’s eyes widened with glee. She ran to the door and tore it open. “Joseph? Is that you?”
Joseph grabbed Christian around the waist and twirled her around. “In the flesh, sweetheart. Oh, I missed you so much.” He proceeded to kiss her frantically on the lips and neck.
Christian kissed him back and went into the little baby voice she reserved specially for him. “Not as much as I missed you, baby.”
Kat winced in disgust. “Ahem. Ahem. Third party over here. Observing this weird, awkward mating ritual.”
Joseph looked over at her in surprise. “You still live with this...mess?”
“Shshsh,” Christian shushed him and then gave him a final glare to silence him.
Joseph glanced from Kat to the scattered items around the apartment, each with little handwritten price tags, his eyebrows arching in silent question.
“We walked by an estate sale, and they needed to unload the stuff immediately,” Kat quickly blurted out.
Joseph let out a low whistle as he saw the emerald ring set. “That’s some nice inventory you got there.”
Kat felt a prickle of unease climb up her spine. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be seeing any of this. But she couldn’t convey any of that to Christian, because she was staring up at Joseph like the sun, the moon, and the stars fell and rose within his eyes.