Scarlet Enchantment

Chapter 7

He told her so confidently not to call the police. Was it a threat, or was he simply that fearless?

Was he unafraid because of the video he had? But she wasn't going to be blackmailed by that. She was the victim; the one who should feel shame was the perpetrator, not her! She wouldn't let herself be dragged down into the filth. She wouldn't!

And he, having meticulously planned his revenge for so long, surely knew her character well.

"Miss Carter? Miss Carter, are you alright?" the young officer asked with concern.

Emily abruptly stood up and walked out.

Outside, the weather was bright, with the late autumn sun hanging high, spilling its last bit of warmth. The difference between the sunny spots and the shade was just a step away, yet crossing it felt like entering another world.

Her mind was in chaos as she dialed Ryan again, still unable to reach him. She stood by her car, resting her head against the cold metal, murmuring to herself, "Emily, calm down. You have to calm down."

She went to the security office of her community, asking to review the surveillance footage from last night under the pretext of theft from her car. The footage showed her parking the car and calmly leaving the surveillance area. Emily's heart pounded uncontrollably in her chest. What about the footage from the lobby? And the elevator?

The security guard looked at her in surprise, asking, "Wasn't something stolen from your car?"

She had no time to explain. Insisting, she got the guard to pull up the footage from other cameras at similar times. There she was, walking normally through the lobby, entering the elevator, and then exiting on her floor.

If she weren't mentally strong, Emily would think she was going mad. Her body trembled as she sat alone in the security room, staring at the blurry footage until the screen suddenly went black and stopped.

She felt a jolt in her heart and called the security guard over. "What's going on? Why did it stop here?"

"Oh, the surveillance system broke down late at night. It was just fixed this morning," the guard explained.

Emily understood instantly. They had taken advantage of the downtime to return her unconscious self home, and the person posing as her had left during that period. There was no need to imagine that even if there were surveillance at the Sky Haven Restaurant, the recorded process would be just as seamless. If this was a trap, Damian had prepared it meticulously, leaving no room for error.

She couldn't go to the police. No one would believe her; they would think she was crazy.

Back home, she sat on the sofa in a daze. As night fell, her phone suddenly rang, the sound jarring and shrill. The screen displayed a number she recognized—Damian Blackwood's.

Emily closed her eyes, then answered the call calmly. "Sebastian Lane, I didn't call the police."

"You’re smart, Miss Carter," Damian said.

She pressed the record button on her phone, trying to keep her voice steady and clear. "You planned this for a long time, didn’t you? You kidnapped me from the restaurant and had someone impersonate me driving home. Who was that person? Where did you find someone who looks so much like me?"

He corrected her, "Not exactly alike, just similar in appearance."

"Your plan was perfect," she said, pinching her thigh to keep calm. "Sebastian Lane, I’m really curious. How did you escape from prison? I went to see Officer Mitchell. He said you were executed. How did you survive?"

Damian's low laugh came through the phone. "Emily, you’re recording this, aren’t you? It’s useless. Everything you do is in vain. Obey me, and your family might stay safe."

Emily felt like she was suffocating. "What do you want?"

"To play our game."

"You’re going to use my family to threaten me, aren’t you?" she asked, her voice stiff.

"Yes," he admitted coldly. "They are my leverage. Don’t break the rules, Miss Carter. Don’t test my patience."

It took a while before she could speak again. "If I obey, will you not harm my family?"

He chuckled, then asked, "Miss Carter, haven’t you noticed that I keep my word better than you do?"

She gritted her teeth and asked, "When will this game end?"

"When I’m bored," he replied. After a pause, he added, "Miss Carter, your husband has called you again."

Sure enough, her phone showed another incoming call from Ryan.

"Answer it, Miss Carter. But remember, our game doesn’t need your family to know about it, does it?" he reminded her. "And remember, my name is Damian Blackwood."

Her conversation with Ryan was brief. Ryan called during a break from his training because he was worried after several unanswered calls. Emily didn’t dare say much, fearing she’d break down crying and knowing their call might be monitored.

Ryan sensed something was wrong. "What’s the matter? You sound off."

"Oh, just a cold," she replied hoarsely, finally finding an excuse that didn't require further hiding. Her nose was stuffy, and tears flowed freely.

"Little fool! " he laughed, feeling both pained and amused. "I've only been away for a few days, and look at you."

Emily Carter was in tears, whispering, "I miss you, Ryan."

"I miss you too, Emily," he replied softly, unable to resist a chuckle. "Alright, we need to start now. I have to turn off my phone."

Ryan hung up, leaving Emily staring blankly at her phone. There was no record of her call with Damian Blackwood, and naturally, no recording saved. She was sure her phone had been tampered with. As she pondered her next steps, she received a text message: "Do not change your phone. Continue using it."

Her spirit was nearly numb. In the dark, she went to the bathroom to wash her face. Once her voice steadied, she called her parents. The elderly couple had just returned to their hotel and were excitedly sharing stories of their trip. She spoke little, listening quietly, and finally reminded them, "Stay safe."

The next day, she went to school as if everything were normal. Near noon, the boy she had been helping came to her office, cautiously asking, "Miss Carter, are you mad at me? You didn’t answer my calls yesterday."

She didn’t respond, just looked at him, wondering if Damian had bought him off or used him.

The boy misunderstood her silence and explained softly, "I waited for you outside the Sky Haven Restaurant the night before last. I had to leave for a bit, and when I returned, I saw you driving away. I called out to you, but I guess you didn’t hear me."

Despite what had happened, she wanted to believe in the goodness of people. Emily forced a smile, "I didn’t hear you. I’m fine. Thank you."

Life seemed to return to normal. Damian Blackwood was like a monster lurking in the water, dragging her into the depths for torment before disappearing without a trace.

After a month-long trip, her parents returned to Serenity. Emily went to have dinner with them, and her mother finally mentioned a frightening incident during their travels.

"Emily, you wouldn’t believe what happened. The night you told us to be careful, we heard someone knocking on the wall in the middle of the night. It woke your father and me. Your father was so mad he knocked back, and then it stopped. The next day, we heard someone in the next room was murdered, and the word 'Sebastian' was written in blood on the wall. It scared us so much we changed hotels immediately!"

Emily's face turned pale, her hands trembling so much she nearly dropped her chopsticks.

The evening before Ryan’s return, Emily received another call from Damian. He said, "Miss Carter, come over tonight to entertain a guest. A car will be waiting for you outside the school."

Though he used a negotiating tone, he left her no choice.

Sitting in her office, she took out the knife she had prepared and toyed with it silently. After much hesitation, she put it back. She couldn’t take the risk. She had no room for failure.

A black car took Emily to a villa on the hill, where a small party was in full swing. With chaotic music, dim lights, and indulgent men and young women’s bodies everywhere, it felt like stepping into a den of iniquity.

Emily’s attire was too out of place, drawing many eyes as she entered. Ignoring them, she scanned the room until she found Damian by the window and walked straight to him.

"Mr. Blackwood," she greeted him calmly.

Damian was holding a glass of wine, talking with someone, with two young models by his side, though he was still neatly dressed. He turned at her voice, glanced at her, and gestured with his wine glass toward a leather sofa in the distance, instructing, "Go keep Mr. Smith company."

Following his direction, she saw a middle-aged man in his forties, overweight, with a half-bald head and an oily face, looking almost lecherous. He had been eyeing her since she entered. She didn’t refuse, obediently walking over. As soon as she sat down, the man moved close, grabbing her hand and asking with a smile, "Beautiful, you’re not in this line of work, are you?"

"Just started," Emily replied.

"Just started, huh? That’s good. Newbies are clean!" The man’s hand slapped her thigh forcefully and didn’t move away. She kept her expression unchanged, letting his hand slide up her leg without glancing at Damian.

The man’s hand grew bolder, soon not satisfied with groping through her clothes and reaching under her skirt. Emily couldn’t endure it anymore, pressing his hand down while laughing lightly, "Mr. Smith, don’t do that. It’s embarrassing if someone sees."

Mr. Smith laughed sleazily, "Embarrassed? That’s good. It makes it more fun. I like good women like you."

His voice was loud, drawing attention. "Go on, Mr. Smith, show us a good time," someone shouted.

Mr. Smith grinned, actually pushing her down on the sofa. As she resisted, her hand reached into her bag, but before she could grab anything, her wrist was seized.

Kevin had appeared behind the sofa, his large hand gripping her slender wrist tightly. He asked expressionlessly, "Miss Carter, what are you reaching for?"

The noisy room fell silent, and Mr. Smith looked at Emily in confusion.

Half-leaning on the sofa, Emily looked calmly at Kevin. "Nothing," she replied.

Kevin didn’t believe her. He tightened his grip and pulled her hand out of the bag. Seeing her clenched fist, he coldly commanded, "What’s in your hand?"

She didn’t answer, turning her head to look at Damian. He was still by the window, watching her with a faint, mocking smile, as if he had been waiting for this show. She slowly smiled back, opening her palm. "Mr. Blackwood, are condoms not allowed either?"

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