Chapter 8
When Balfour walked in, Lynne suddenly felt exhausted. “It’s nothing,” she muttered.
The impatience in her voice made Balfour’s heart sink. Without thinking, he stepped closer, but before he could reach out and stop her, Lynne sidestepped, slipping away from his grasp.
He opened his mouth, frustrated and ready to protest, but his phone started ringing shrilly.}
With a frown, he answered–it was Sexton.”
“Balfour, check the messages I just sent you! Now!“}
his screen filled with videos from Lynne’s birthday party: Cynthia,
Sexton had sent a barrage of texts. Balfour tapped one open, barefoot and disheveled, crashing in among the guests; photos of her collapsing into his arms. The comments underneath were a torrent of ugly ridicule, each more vicious than the last.
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“What a pathetic little drama queen! Who gatecrashes someone else’s birthday and pretends to be the victim? Unbelievable!“}
“Mr. Tobin and his wife were childhood sweethearts, but that didn’t stop him from cheating. Do men have any self–control at all?“}
“This woman’s a real piece of work. Someone should expose her and give her what she deserves!“}
Scrolling further, Balfour saw that Cynthia’s entire past was being dragged out and twisted, each slander and rumor more outrageous than the last.!!
Fury and worry tangled inside him. He fumbled to call Cynthia.
But before he could dial, his phone rang again–her name lighting up the screen
He answered breathlessly. Cynthia’s voice came through, broken and desperate.}}
“Balfour, I won’t fight her for you, okay? Please, just ask her to leave me alone, will you? I’ve had enough. Maybe in another life, we’ll meet sooner, alright?”
She hung up before he could answer.
Lynne, watching him, frowned. “What happened?“}
Before she could finish, Balfour strode across the room and seized her by the throat, his eyes wild with rage. “Lynne, if anything happens to her, I won’t forgive you!“”
He tossed her aside like she was nothing. Lynne landed hard on the bed, gasping for breath, fists clenched, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.”
He’d come so close to killing her.
Hands shaking, she grabbed her phone and called Sexton.
Cynthia had tried to take her own life, but Balfour had found her just in time.”
He kept vigil at Cynthia’s hospital bedside, face taut and sleepless.
When Lynne learned what had happened, she tried calling Balfour, but he rejected every call.
She refused to accept his groundless accusations. Destroying someone with such vile tactics had never been her style–she wasn’t that reckless or cruel.
But Balfour didn’t believe her.
It was almost dawn when Balfour finally returned home, cold and hollow–eyed.”
He didn’t bother turning on the lights. Lynne jumped when he appeared at her bedside, looming out of the darkness.
He sneered at her. “Cynthia’s been trapped in a nightmare all night, and yet you the one who started all this–sleep like a baby.”
“Lynne, I want you to record a video apologizing to Cynthia. Tell everyone she’s innocent, that you were the jealous one who paid people to smear her online.
Lynne stared at him, wide–eyed. “You don’t believe me.”
Balfour dropped his gaze, unable to meet her eyes, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened. “It’s what you owe her. By nine tomorrow morning, if you haven’t posted the video–*#
Lynne felt something inside her finally break. Blood seemed to freeze in her veins, her face as white and drawn as a ghost. “And if I don’t?” she asked flatly
Balfour’s jaw lightened, “I told you. Apologize, and nothing else will happen. Refuse–and you’ll pay the price.”
He stormed out, leaving her alone with the echo of his threat
Lynne stared out at the moonlight, feeling utterly empty. The stupidest thing she’d ever done was deciding to stand by a boy as he grew
Chapter 8
- up.
She didn’t record the video.
And Balfour made good on his threat.
Soon, the whole country was watching the footage: Lynne, cornered by thugs in a back alley, stripped and pinned to the ground, their filthy hands roaming her body while she fought and screamed.
That was the last tear Lynne would ever shed for Balfour.
Her phone chimed–a new audio message.
“Balfour, are you sure you want to post these videos? You’ll ruin Miss Simpson!” came Sexton’s worried voice.”
“She needs to learn a lesson. I can’t always protect her–she needs to grow up,” Balfour’s voice replied, cold and decisive. Sitting on the floor, Lynne let out a bitter, hollow laugh.”
All Balfour knew was revenge. He’d forgotten that she’d only been in that alley, at the mercy of those men, because of him.” She packed up a “gift” for Balfour.”
Then she left the house that had imprisoned her for so long, armor on, head high.”
“Goodbye forever, Balfour.”
Balfour sat beside Cynthia’s bed, but his mind was elsewhere. He wasn’t as heartless as he pretended.
He waited–waited for Lynne to break, to call and beg him.
But he waited from daylight until darkness, and her call never came.}
Instead, a courier company called. When he asked for the sender’s name, they said “Simpson.“}
A small, satisfied smile tugged at his lips.
So Lynne still cared, just like always.
He finally managed to get Cynthia to sleep, and was about to check the delivery when his phone rang again.”
He frowned at the screen–his mother.
He answered, irritation in his voice.”
The next moment, her panicked voice blared through the phone.
“Balfour! Something’s happened to Lynne!““}]
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Chapter 9
