Chapter 64: Drunk
Three weeks had passed since that day.
Camille Parker sat dazed on her bed. She had not even bothered to turn on the light. The surroundings were dim, but the moonlight filtering through the curtains gave the room a soft, ethereal ambience. It was so quiet that she could almost hear her own thoughts, a chaotic mess that they were.
She hadn’t told him the truth that day at the villa. How could she? It was impossible, especially with Christian using her family as blackmail.
She knew how hard her brothers had worked to manage the hotel business and keep the ratings and reviews at the top. They were so hardworking that she could barely communicate with them as their schedules were almost always full.
Of course, there were times when they had a long break from work, and that was when they’d make an effort to meet with her.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.
She trusted her brothers with her life. She had no doubt that they felt the same way and that they would not want this kind of life for her.
It was why, when she decided to play Christian at his own game, she decided to seek their help. After all, they were family, and Paul and Ben had always protected her. They were also good at keeping things secret.
But even then, she could not bring herself to tell them about her true arrangement with Christian.
‘They’d explode if they find out,’ she thought bitterly. ‘Ben won’t be able to hold in his anger. It’s upsetting, but I can’t let anything risk my situation as of now.’
The day she met Michael at the flower shop, she had deliberately passed Ben on the streets. In one swift movement, he had slipped a device into her pocket, one that she would have to use at the right time.
A recording device.
It wasn’t as incriminating as a camera, but it was better than nothing. Ben was the one who bought it, because if she did, Christian would see her transaction records. If she had met up with Ben and then he discreetly gave her the device, she would probably be spotted by one of the men Christian paid to keep an eye on her.
Then again, she was his personal assistant. His secretary. Unlike the other employees, she was privy to a lot of important information in the company. Since Christian hated betrayal the most, he kept an eye on her as well as his other business partners. He was careful and meticulous, which made it difficult to gather any evidence against him.
She kept a USB stick in her underwear drawer, carefully hidden under the material so that no one would easily see that it was there. It wasn’t exactly the best hiding place, since Christian would hardly flinch at something like that, but she had to take the risk. There was no other good place to hide it.
The USB contained folders and files with every scrap of detail and evidence she had managed to gather against Christian over the years.
Unfortunately, they were not enough. She wanted a conviction. A certain prison sentence. If she was going to ruin Callahan Group, she had to make sure they couldn’t get back up again. Both Gregory and Christian Callahan.
It had not been easy. For one thing, Christian was so good at hiding and destroying evidence. It had taken her years to find this much, and it still wasn’t damning enough.
She lacked testimonies from witnesses or even informants. No one was willing to come forward, and she couldn’t even investigate properly because Christian would find out what she was doing and punish her severely for it.
Right now, she only had a few documents and email records that would probably warrant an investigation. However, if it wasn’t substantial or leaked to the media, the Callahans could very well bribe the investigators during the process, which would in turn ruin the whole plan.
But physical evidence or even hidden audio or video recordings were hard to come by. She also had yet to get a forensic accounting report. Coupled with the paperwork and Christian’s busy schedule, there was no way she could handle several things at once and also keep suspicion off her trail.
While she was thinking about this, she suddenly heard a knock at the door.
“Harrietta?” she called out. “Is that you?”
“Yes, madam,” Harrietta’s familiar voice responded, sounding a little muffled behind the door.
“Come in.”
As the woman entered the room, she looked nervous. She fidgeted slightly and her eyes were averted.
Camille looked at her in confusion. “Is something the matter?” she asked.
“It’s… It’s Mr. Callahan, madam,” Harrietta explained, her tone anxious. “He’s home.”
“Oh. Well… I don’t think that’s any of my business, though?” Camille said, puzzled. Why should she care whether Christian was at home or not? Harrietta didn’t usually report such things to her. She and the other servants knew the true nature of their relationship, but their mouths were sewn shut thanks to a non-disclosure agreement.
“That is… um…” A guilty expression took over Harrietta’s features. “I’m very sorry, madam, but he’s been calling out your name for the last few minutes. And he seems to be terribly drunk.”
Drunk?
Now that was a bad sign. Christian would go drinking from time to time, whether it was for business or pleasure. It was part of his lifestyle. Apart from that, he also visited bars and nightclubs on occasion. Probably to have a good time and pick up some random women.
She could never understand his fascination with dating tons of different women. It wasn’t as if he wanted a deep, emotional connection with anyone. An arrogant man like him looking for true love? It was really hard to believe.
But she had never seen him drunk before. She figured that he either had a high alcohol tolerance in which he could drink so much and never get drunk, or he was very careful with his intake and knew when to stop just before he could get tipsy.
Also, judging by the look on Harrietta’s face, he seemed to be in bad shape. That also set off a warning bell in her head. Christian hated to be seen as vulnerable or anything but his ‘elegant’ self. He liked to be prim and proper at all times, exuding that annoyingly confident air.
So for him to act this way meant that something probably happened.
Something bad.