Clara’s mind suddenly became empty, and she couldn’t think of anything. ’What is he talking about? This does not make any sense!’ Indeed, Presque’s words did not sound right.
However, when she thought of it deeper, at least from an observer’s point of view, everything was as he had described. She had shed her own clothes while he watched on, she had sat on the couch on her own and fingered herself. She had walked up to him on her own ... except he gave her the instructions to do so.
"What do you mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him, her briefly forgotten anger bubbling up yet again. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Why was the man trying to veer off the conversation, and what was he implying?
His integrity as a human being needed to be probed, but then, for someone who would demand sex through coercion to do something that he later did not, what kind of integrity would such a person have? Just when Clara thought she had hit rock bottom, Presque added,
"I have a video proof of that!"
"WHAT! You videoed us?!"
Clara stumbled back. She was so shocked that her mind went blank—again! so blank that she temporarily forgot where she was or who she was talking with. She could not understand why in the world a whole prosecutor would do that. She forgot that Presque was a human with needs before he was a prosecutor.
"T-here is a s-ex-video of me out there?"
Her eyes stung with tears at the implication of what that meant.
Presque was not perturbed at her reaction. In fact, deep inside, he was only sorry that by having to reveal that information, he would have lost all chances of ever tapping on that arse ever again. The woman was excellent in bed. Her moves and ministrations on him were perfect.
’Fuck!’ he thought. Just the thought back to the night before had started getting him hard again in the face of what would be considered a ’serious conversation.’
"I am a prosecutor, and I keep records of everything. What did you expect? Anyway, don’t worry, it’s for my consumption only. I just wanted you to know that you can always jog your memory if you so desire."
"You! You are shameless!"
"I guess that would be you, looking in a mirror then! Hahahahhhaah!"
Clara’s hand went to her throat. She was really in an impossible situation then.
’I only wanted to free James and nothing else. How did it all come to this?’ Her budding thoughts turned into disarray. From all that she had done to try to free her husband, it had come to nothing.
She had sold her dignity, reputation, and everything left to her and achieved basically nothing. However, it was not like she could report Presque, too! What would she say? Wouldn’t she become a laughingstock in town if she did?
"Wh-y, why would you do this?" Her tears threatened to fall, but Clara did not allow herself to let go and cry in front of the man who had done this to her knowingly.
"There is no reason. You are a beautiful woman, and I have always wanted to have a taste of you. It’s as simple as that." Presque leaned back in his swivel chair with an amused and content expression.
"Besides, I did you a favour and gave you a taste of a cock now that your husband is away from here. You looked so sex-starved from the way you ate me hungrily. I satisfied your hunger.... You should be thanking me instead. Such an ungrateful bitch you are! Anyway, you know where to find me if your sexual craving awakens again and your sweet pussy needs to be hammered!"
"You.... You never wanted to help me in the least... did you?"
The idea dawned on her suddenly.
"Hahahahaahaaaa.... It took you so long to figure it out? I give it to you, though... you are the best woman I ever had.... Y-"
Clara turned, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her small lace covering her face obscured most of her facial emotions as she ran out of the office with the prosecutor’s laughter following her all the way.
’What did I do? What DO I do?’ She ran out as pitying and disgusting looks followed her. This time, some of the conversations around her did make sense, but Clara did not stop. She was so humiliated. One little fact that both she and Presque did not know was that the said video was already being sent from person to person and it was only a matter of time before it exploded.
"They say that looks are not everything. She slept with another even before her husband was sentenced."
"... well, you can’t blame her. She thought that she was helping her husband."
"It’s sad that she did not know how much of a crook Presque is."
"Yeah, he is the best at his job, too, so the higher-ups sometimes also turn a blind eye to his unprofessionalism."
"Hey, the woman has experience! I give that to her!"
"Hahahahahaaaaaa...."
"Do you have the video? Let me take a look, too!"
"Don’t worry, I’ll send it to you...."
Clara hailed a taxi outside the offices and went home right away using the last bit of cash she had found the previous night.
"Welcome back, Ms Clara...." Angela greeted her at the door.
"What’s wrong, ma’am?" Clara brushed her aside and ran to her room, locking the door behind her. She sobbed in anguish.
"What have I done? Wh-at have I done!" She screamed, and then standing up, she started thrashing things in the room. Her gaze landed on the shopping bag from the day before. The one that had the dress. She stormed up to it, took the dress out and tore it with her bare hands.
Clara seemed to have forgotten the price of the dress and the fact that her family had no other income coming in. However, she was stuck in her own world of self-pity and blame that she did not care.
It was not like Clara ever cared for anyone. She only did when her interests were at play. In all this, Clara understood one thing, the video was already in the hands of others. That would explain why the staff of the prosecutor’s office spoke that way. Clara was naïve but not stupid.
Downstairs, Angela was stunned. Her mistress was prone to tantrums, but she had never seen her like that.
’Was it because of the master’s situation?’
A few of the workers stood there together after Clara had left.
"If the master has been jailed, what becomes of us?"
No one had any response to that.
"Do we start to look for different jobs? What do we do now?"
Angela had become like the nominal leader because she served the main madam, but Angel had no response to that.
"I have to inform Master Rocky of this...."
She sidestepped them, knowing and understanding their fears and questions, but what could she do? She was in the same situation as them. Angela was also not in a position to advise anyone on that.
She knocked on Rocky’s door.
After the court settlement, Rocky had gone straight to his room from the courthouse.
He did not like James’ attitude and decisions, but he was still his father. Texts poured in from his classmates and friends on the subject. This had been a high-profile case and was known widely. He had tough skin and could withstand all the talks behind his back when he was on campus. The conversations were ridiculous:
’Is he also dealing drugs like his father?’
’Is that why he is always the top student?’
’Is that why he is aloof?’
These were from his mates. The most ridiculous one was the email he had received just that morning.
’Dear Mr Rockwell Wendover,
Following your father’s positive conviction, we, the academic board, have decided with concerned parents that you will need to take a drug test on school premises to determine that you are still fit to continue your studies. We have received multiple complaints that make us suspect that you may have taken your father’s path. Failure to comply with this will result in an immediate dismissal from our prestigious institution.
The letter was as ridiculous as it sounded. Rocky sighed and put his phone down. He knew that this was not a problem he could solve on his own. They were out to get him, knowing that his powerful father was no longer in the picture.
They also knew that the Thornstons were not on their side because if they were, James would never have been sentenced. In fact, Rocky suspected that people wanted to score points with Ian by doing that.
He had the issue of the money, his mother’s sex video, the mansion and then his school to deal with.
’I can’t keep this to myself any longer.’
"Sissy, help.... Your brother is drowning in life!" He sent the message and then lay down just as a knock sounded.
Rocky dragged his feet to the door. He was mentally tired.
He listened to Angela explain everything to him about his mother. Rocky sighed.
"Thanks, Angela, I’ll take care of it."
The woman nodded and then left him to attend to her other duties.
In Clara’s room, she picked up her phone and dialled her daughter’s number.
"Shelby.... My sweet daughter! Please help me! Please!"
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