My CEO's Blackmail Tape - Chapter 36: Chapter 36
You are reading My CEO's Blackmail Tape, Chapter 36: Chapter 36. Read more chapters of My CEO's Blackmail Tape.
Despair wrapped around me like a straitjacket, yet I remained helpless to fight it.
The hours dragged until Daniel Evans finally collapsed into bed. But sleep played hard to get—he mindlessly scrolled through his phone until exhaustion finally knocked him out. His snores rumbled through the room. The wall clock glared 3:17 AM in glowing red numbers.
The 24-hour window for emergency contraception had slammed shut. My stomach dropped like I'd missed the last step on a staircase.
Still, I clung to foolish hope. Slipping out from under the covers, I bolted to the nearest 24-hour pharmacy. I dry-swallowed the pill in my panic, gagging as it scraped down my throat like sandpaper.
The pharmacist's eyes nearly popped out before she shoved a water bottle at me. I chugged it, hiccuping like a malfunctioning engine.
Daniel slept like a bomb could go off—if he woke up like last time—
No way "morning jog" would fly at this hour. So I sprinted home, my lungs burning like I'd inhaled fire.
The bedroom door groaned open. Daniel's peaceful expression loosened the vise around my chest.
I curled against him, ear pressed to the steady drum of his heartbeat, and let exhaustion pull me under.
God, I wanted to sleep forever—to escape the guilt, to avoid Nathan Roscente's dogged pursuit.
Back home, Sophia Hill's calls about work had piled up. We were the dream team, crushing projects with terrifying efficiency.
My absence left her floundering. Though she never guilt-tripped me, after two days I dragged myself back to the office.
Sophia squealed like a teen at a boyband concert, lifting me in a spin. "Evelyn! Sweet baby Jesus, you're here! I'm going under without you!"
"Breathe. I've got your back."
Busywork became my lifeline. Stacks of documents needing Nathan's signature? I shoved them into Sophia's "later" pile. She mentioned he'd been MIA—too busy playing groomzilla.
Pure joy fizzed through my veins at the news.
Near quitting time, Sophia's phone buzzed. That ridiculous grin gave away the caller—Ryan Lowell, her husband.
"Cover for me?" She dumped a mountain of files on my desk with a conspiratorial wink.
"Rushing home for some afternoon delight?" I teased. "Someone's got stamina."
A blush crept up her neck. "Gotta keep the home fires burning."
I froze, staring at my hands.
Sophia winced. "Shit. That was insensitive."
She vanished before I could muster a response.
Frustration bitter on my tongue, I downed an espresso that tasted like tar and drowned myself in paperwork.
Night swallowed the office. Just as I packed up, the sharp staccato of stilettos clicked down the empty hallway.
The hours dragged until Daniel Evans finally collapsed into bed. But sleep played hard to get—he mindlessly scrolled through his phone until exhaustion finally knocked him out. His snores rumbled through the room. The wall clock glared 3:17 AM in glowing red numbers.
The 24-hour window for emergency contraception had slammed shut. My stomach dropped like I'd missed the last step on a staircase.
Still, I clung to foolish hope. Slipping out from under the covers, I bolted to the nearest 24-hour pharmacy. I dry-swallowed the pill in my panic, gagging as it scraped down my throat like sandpaper.
The pharmacist's eyes nearly popped out before she shoved a water bottle at me. I chugged it, hiccuping like a malfunctioning engine.
Daniel slept like a bomb could go off—if he woke up like last time—
No way "morning jog" would fly at this hour. So I sprinted home, my lungs burning like I'd inhaled fire.
The bedroom door groaned open. Daniel's peaceful expression loosened the vise around my chest.
I curled against him, ear pressed to the steady drum of his heartbeat, and let exhaustion pull me under.
God, I wanted to sleep forever—to escape the guilt, to avoid Nathan Roscente's dogged pursuit.
Back home, Sophia Hill's calls about work had piled up. We were the dream team, crushing projects with terrifying efficiency.
My absence left her floundering. Though she never guilt-tripped me, after two days I dragged myself back to the office.
Sophia squealed like a teen at a boyband concert, lifting me in a spin. "Evelyn! Sweet baby Jesus, you're here! I'm going under without you!"
"Breathe. I've got your back."
Busywork became my lifeline. Stacks of documents needing Nathan's signature? I shoved them into Sophia's "later" pile. She mentioned he'd been MIA—too busy playing groomzilla.
Pure joy fizzed through my veins at the news.
Near quitting time, Sophia's phone buzzed. That ridiculous grin gave away the caller—Ryan Lowell, her husband.
"Cover for me?" She dumped a mountain of files on my desk with a conspiratorial wink.
"Rushing home for some afternoon delight?" I teased. "Someone's got stamina."
A blush crept up her neck. "Gotta keep the home fires burning."
I froze, staring at my hands.
Sophia winced. "Shit. That was insensitive."
She vanished before I could muster a response.
Frustration bitter on my tongue, I downed an espresso that tasted like tar and drowned myself in paperwork.
Night swallowed the office. Just as I packed up, the sharp staccato of stilettos clicked down the empty hallway.
End of My CEO's Blackmail Tape Chapter 36. Continue reading Chapter 37 or return to My CEO's Blackmail Tape book page.