CHAPTER 65: 8 YEARS AGO III
CHAPTER 65: 8 YEARS AGO III
James slammed the office door shut, the sound echoing in the sterile silence. He reached for the bottle of whiskey again, downing its contents in a single, desperate gulp in a bid to drown his sorrows.
Each burning gulp did little to soothe the storm raging within him.
When the bottle was half-empty, a strangled cry escaped his lips, echoing through the silent office as he slumped on his chair. He felt shattered, broken into a million pieces with the weight of betrayal crushing him.
With trembling hands, he wiped his face and stumbled out, with a singular purpose of finding Paris.
He found her curled up on the sofa, the soft glow of the television painting fleeting shadows on her face, her laughter a stark contrast to the turmoil within him.
He walked towards her, his movements heavy with despair. Reaching her side, he knelt before her, his hands trembling as they reached for hers.
Before she could react, he was already burying his face in her lap. His body wracked with silent sobs.
Paris, startled but instinctively comforting, placed a hand on his head, gently rocking him back and forth.
"James, what's wrong?" she whispered softly.
He remained silent for a moment, then slowly raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with a raw pain that made Paris's breath catch.
In his shaky hand, he held the damning photographs.
Paris's eyes widened as she recognized the scenes – different settings, different men, but the undeniable truth staring back at her. A cold dread settled in her stomach, replacing the earlier amusement.
"Paris," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "Please, tell me this isn't true that all of this is one big enormous lie. Tell me there's an explanation."
The pictures fluttered to the floor, their contents a stark contrast to the comfort of the living room. Paris's eyes widened in a flicker of panic, but it was quickly replaced by a mask of forced composure.
The room plunged into a suffocating silence. James searched her face, desperate for a flicker of denial, a shred of the woman he thought he knew.
Paris's gaze darted away, her composure cracking.
"James," she began, her voice carefully controlled, "what are you—"
He cut her off, his voice laced with a desperate plea. "Anything, Paris. I swear on my mother's grave, I'll believe you. Just say something."
Here, he raised the recorder that was in his hands as he pressed play. The recorder started with her telling a man; "Please i want the removal of this baby to be as swift as possible i don't want my boyfriend to know because it will surely break his heart, seeing as he cannot impregnant any woman and the fact that he's also a softie". She said the last part with disgust clearly shown on her face.
The man then said to her, "this will make it how many abortions am doing for you Paris?".
"The 4th and last one Vince, there will not be another occurence i promise you". Paris replied him.
"Well why don't you protect yourself from all these things" Vince asked her.
"Vince you know that's the nature of the job, its not easy to protect oneself from it especially when you have to sell it like i do. You might decide to protect yourself from it and have a stubborn client on your watch and we don't want a stubborn client do we? It could ruin everything - all our well laid out plans". Paris said smiling shrewdly at him.
"And besides i have to make my commitment to them very believable so the boss doesn't have my arse for it. And what is it with you taking the moral high ground on this Vince, you are still the one who willingly does all the removals?"
"Par, your thinking is really twisted" Vince said to her.
"And this has nothing to do with moral high ground. I am just worried for you cause excess of this could kill you and you also don't want that".
"Its not like the Boss will be angry if you protected yourself. Infact i think you won't want to protect yourself from getting pregnant because your twisted head and mind enjoys the feel of them raw inside you".
"And you wanna know why i think that because we both know the Boss doesn't want you dead. He knows Par that this too much removals is bad for you. He wants you alive so he can accomplish his mission".
"Okay Vince", Paris said and clapped her hands, "you caught me. Now can we get on with this?"
"You know, your boyfriend is the stupid one for loving you despite seeing all the red flags". Vince said preparing her for the process.
"Well, that is really because you have no idea how much i mean to him, he can die for me". And that was where the recording stopped as he continued to stare at her stupidly, still expecting her to say something.
Paris's hand trembled as she grabbed the chip from his open hands, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and defiance. "It's...complicated," she finally managed, her voice barely audible.
"Complicated?" James repeated, the word a hollow echo in the room. The anger rising with him was weakly dissolved by her indirect admission.
"Just tell me the truth, Paris. How long has this been going on?"
Paris remained silent, her gaze falling to the floor. The air crackled with unspoken accusations, a storm brewing on the horizon of their relationship.