Chapter nine
374 Words
Eyes Everywhere
Gloria leaned back against her dressing table, eyes closed, phone to her ear.
“I need a private investigator,” she said. “Discrete. Smart. And fast.”
Her voice was calm, but every word was soaked in determination. She had wasted enough time doubting herself. Now, she was going to uncover the truth—no matter how ugly it was.
Across town, Alfred sat in his office at Leonard Corp., distracted by his own reflection in the dark window. He was losing himself—piece by piece. He couldn’t explain what was happening. Emmanuella haunted his thoughts like a melody he couldn’t forget.
And still… he hadn’t touched her.
Not yet.
But he wanted to.
Williams entered cautiously. “Sir. Evelyn Markson is here to see you.”
Alfred blinked. “Evelyn?”
“She said it was personal.”
A few minutes later, Evelyn stood before him, calm but piercing.
“Gloria won’t come to you yet. So I will,” she said. “Whatever is going on between you and Emmanuella—it’s not real. It’s manipulation.”
Alfred stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“She’s not just a girl with ambition. She’s dangerous. And Gabriel Peter—he’s using her to get to you. To destroy you.”
Alfred leaned back, face unreadable. “This sounds like a conspiracy theory.”
“Then test it,” Evelyn challenged. “Hire your own investigator. Look into her past. Look into his.”
He didn’t reply, but something in his eyes flickered.
Meanwhile, Emmanuella knelt by her bedroom window that night, whispering incantations as a black candle flickered before her. The charm Gabriel had given her now pulsed with heat against her chest.
She was close. So close.
But even she could feel the change in the house.
Too many eyes.
Too much pressure.
She had to tighten her hold—fast.
The next morning, Gloria received a text from the investigator:
“Initial background checks complete. You were right to be suspicious. Will deliver report in person—confidentially.”
Gloria exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the sink as her reflection stared back at her.
Soon, she would know everything.
And when she
did… the reckoning would begin.
- Writer
