CHAPTER 40: CHAPTER-40. (PHOTOS OF HER).

"What do you mean by blackmail? Who is blackmailing you? And most of all, why?"

Though I knew that I should be patient and let her explain at her own pace but what can I do?

Some jerk was blackmailing my friend, and I was unaware of it for God knows how much time. I should have trusted my gut when I first felt her being low on the call.

Now, I feel a little guilty for not speaking to her soon.

I got such busy in my problems that I totally forgot, or should I say, ignored her...Caroline, my friend who let me stay at her place. Who got me when I called her to announce the divorce?

Who listened to me cry, rage, rant, and repeat, and never once judged me for it. She was there when I was at my absolute worst, and here I was, blind to hers.

The guilt twisted deeper in my stomach. How selfish could I be? Wrapped up in Dave, Linda, birthdays, and my own mess, I completely missed the fact that my best friend was fighting her own storm.

I leaned forward, my fingers tapping restlessly on the table.

"Caroline, talk to me. Please. Who is it? What are they doing? I swear to God, if someone is trying to mess with you, I’ll—" I stopped myself, because honestly, what would I do?

I wasn’t exactly threatening material. But the anger bubbling inside me was real.

Caroline looked down, her hands clutching the edge of the table so tight her knuckles turned white. She took a shaky breath. "It’s... A few days ago. On Friday, some of my colleagues planned to go out somewhere fun."

Caroline’s voice was low, almost like she was ashamed to even admit it.

"It was just supposed to be a normal night out, you know? Drinks, dancing, nothing crazy. We’d been working nonstop, and everyone was desperate to blow off steam.

So, we went to this new club in a posh area. Flashy lights, music so loud it felt like my heart was thumping in my throat... the usual scene."

She paused, biting her lip, her eyes flicking nervously toward the window as if someone might be eavesdropping.

I leaned closer, whispering, "And then?"

She swallowed hard. "At first, everything was fine. We were just having fun, laughing, dancing. But then some guy showed up—someone I didn’t even know.

He seemed friendly at first, offered us drinks, and chatted with my colleagues. But the more the night went on, the more... weird he got. He kept trying to get me alone. I refused, but I guess he didn’t like that."

My stomach twisted. I already hated this guy.

Caroline’s eyes brimmed with tears again. "I thought I was being careful. I swear I didn’t drink anything from him. But somehow—somewhere he spiked my drink."

Caroline’s voice broke as she said it, and for a second, my whole body went still.

Spiked. My brain latched onto that word like it was the only thing in the room.

"You mean—" I started, but my throat tightened. I couldn’t even finish.

She nodded quickly, her fingers trembling as she clutched her coffee cup like it was her lifeline. "I don’t remember much after a certain point.

Just flashes. Blurred lights.

Music pounding in my head. And then waking up the next morning in a hotel room. With this... this pit in my stomach. I kept telling myself I was overthinking, maybe I was just too tired, maybe I drank more than I thought. But then—"

She fumbled with her bag, pulled out her phone, and slid it across the table.

I hesitated before picking it up, almost afraid of what I was about to see. And when the screen lit up, my heart nearly stopped.

Photos. Of her. On the bed with someone.

My stomach dropped. Cold. Heavy. Like someone had just poured ice water straight into my veins.

The photo wasn’t just bad—it was horrifying. Caroline’s face was right there, clear as day, vulnerable, exposed.

And the man—God, the man.

The face was not visible as its back faced the front. But I caught the man’s blonde hair. For some weird reason, it felt very similar to if I had seen this man somewhere.

But the picture was already blurry to pinpoint anything, but it was clear enough to figure out her face.

She was lying on her stomach. Her hair was scattered around. The duvet covered her half body to the waist.

The more I swiped, the worse it got.

I did not have words to describe those pictures. Every time I looked closer, trying to find some more clues about the man, but nothing significant was found.

I kept praying to find anything leading me to that disgusting, weirdo... when I found something.

The man had shifted slightly. The camera had caught him from an angle where part of his shoulder and chest were visible.

His head was still turned away, hiding his identity, but that damn blonde hair glowed like a spotlight, messy and unmistakable. And then my eyes froze on it—just below his collarbone.

A dark hickey.

Bold. Deep. Fresh enough that it hadn’t faded yet.

My heart stuttered in my chest. My brain instantly tried to place it, like a puzzle piece that should have fit somewhere I already knew. A blonde man. With a mark like that.

The hickey was not easy to hide, and it would take a few days to disappear completely. So, we had some time to find this man.

And somewhere in my heart I knew who the man was, but my mind was denying my guess as it would be next to impossible for him to get involved with Caroline.

It felt absurd, but not something that couldn’t happen.

I wanted to tell her but without any proof I cannot blame someone. First things first, I had to gather proof that the guy in the photo was really who I thought he was.