Chapter 7 Chapter 7

He told her not to call the police with such confidence. Was it a threat, or did he simply not care?

Was he unafraid of her reporting him because of the video?

But she wasn't intimidated by the threat of blackmail. She was the victim—the abuser was the one who should feel ashamed, not her!

She wouldn't be blackmailed by him, nor would she be bound by the video. She wouldn't!

After all this time he spent meticulously planning his revenge, did he not know her character at all?

"Ms. Catherine? Ms. Catherine, what's wrong?" the young officer asked with concern.

Grace abruptly stood up and walked out.

Outside, the weather was bright. The fierce late-autumn sun hung overhead, pouring out its final bursts of passion. Sunlit and shaded areas were separated by a mere line—crossing it felt like entering another world.

Her mind was in chaos. She dialed Adrian again, but the call went unanswered.

Standing beside the car with her head pressed against the cold metal, she murmured to herself, "Grace, calm down. You have to calm down."

She checked the nearby surveillance footage. The recording clearly showed "her" parking the car and then walking out of the camera's view without haste.

Grace's heart pounded wildly in her chest.

Were it not for her mental fortitude, she would have thought she was going mad. Her body trembled faintly as she sat alone in the security room, staring at the blurry footage until it suddenly went black.

Grace understood almost instantly. They had used that time to carry her unconscious body back home, and the "other her" had slipped away. There was no need to guess. Even if Verde had surveillance, the recorded sequence would mirror this one exactly. If this was a trap, Benjamin had meticulously prepared for it over a long period of time, leaving no stone unturned and perfecting it to the point where not a single flaw could be found.

Sure enough, she couldn't go to the police. No one would believe her. They'd just think she was crazy.

Returning home, she sat lifelessly on the sofa. As night fell outside, her phone suddenly rang. The abrupt, jarring tone displayed a number she recognized instantly—Benjamin's. Her memory never failed her.

Grace closed her eyes briefly before pressing the answer button. "Alex," she said calmly. "I didn't call the police."

"You're clever, Ms. Catherine," Benjamin said.

Grace gently pressed the record button on her phone, struggling to control her emotions as she tried to explain the situation clearly. "You've been planning this for a long time, haven't you? First, you kidnapped me from the restaurant, and then you sent someone to impersonate me while I was driving home. Who was that imposter? Where did you find someone who looks so much like me?”

He corrected her: “Actually, not that much. Just the general appearance.”

“Hmm, your plan was perfect,” she said, digging her other hand into her thigh to force herself to stay calm. “Alex, I'm genuinely curious—how did you escape from prison? I went to see Detective Meyer, who handled your case. He confirmed that you were executed. How did you survive death?”

Benjamin's deep chuckle echoed through the receiver. "Grace, you're recording, aren't you? It's useless. Everything you've done is futile. Just do as I say. That's the only way your family might not get hurt."

Grace felt as if her nose and mouth were covered, making it difficult to breathe. "What exactly do you want?"

"To play our game."

"You're using my family to blackmail me, aren't you?" she asked, her voice stiff.

"Yes." He admitted it plainly, his words cold and ruthless. "They are my bargaining chips. Don't break the rules of the game anymore, Ms. Catherine. Don't test my patience.”

After a long moment, she managed to speak. "If I obey, you won't harm my family?"

He chuckled softly and countered, "Ms. Catherine, haven't you noticed that I'm actually more trustworthy than you?"

She clenched her jaw and asked, "When will this game end?"

"When I grow bored." He paused, then added, "Ms. Catherine, your husband has called again."

Sure enough, her phone immediately flashed another incoming call.

"Answer it, Ms. Catherine. I don't think your family needs to know about our little game. Would you agree?" He reminded her, concluding, "Also, remember—my name is Benjamin Norman now."

Her call with Adrian was brief. He'd called during a training break because he was worried after several missed calls. Grace didn't speak much, afraid she might break down crying or that their conversation might be overheard.

Adrian, ever perceptive, sensed that something was off. "What's wrong? You sound muffled.”

"Oh, I’ve got a cold," she replied hoarsely, finally finding an excuse that wouldn't require further explanations. "My nose is stuffed up, and my eyes are watery."

"You silly goose!" he laughed, feeling both heartbroken and amused. "I've only been gone a few days, and you're already like this."

With tears streaming down her face, Grace murmured softly, "I miss you, Adrian."

"I miss you too, Grace," he replied in a hushed voice. Then he couldn't help but laugh. "All right, I have to go. We're starting. I need to turn off my phone.”

Adrian hung up. Grace stared blankly at the phone. There was no record of her call with Benjamin, and, as she expected, the recording hadn't saved. She was now certain that he had tampered with the phone. As she pondered how to handle it, another text arrived: Don't change phones. Keep using this one.

Her mind was nearly numb. She felt her way to the bathroom in the dark to wash her face. Only after her voice cleared did she call her parents.

They had just returned to the hotel from their trip and were excitedly recounting amusing travel anecdotes. She spoke little, listening quietly before finally reminding them, "Stay safe."

The next day, she went to school as if nothing had happened. Around noon, the boy she had been helping came to her office and asked cautiously, "Ms. Catherine, are you angry with me? You didn't answer my calls yesterday."

She didn't answer, only raised her eyes to look at him. She wondered whether he had been bribed or used by Benjamin.

Misinterpreting her silence, the boy softly explained, "I waited outside 'Verde' for you the night before last. I stepped away for a moment, and when I returned, I saw you driving away. I called out to you twice, but you probably didn't hear me.”

Even after enduring such an ordeal, Grace chose to believe that kindness existed in the world. Grace forced a smile. "I truly didn't hear you. I'm fine, thank you."

Life seemed to return to normal. Benjamin was like a monster lurking beneath the water's surface—one moment he'd drag her into the pitch-black depths and abuse her, and the next he'd vanish without a trace.

Her parents, who had been traveling for over a month, returned to Seattle first. When Grace joined them for dinner, her mother finally mentioned a terrifying incident that had occurred during their trip.

"Oh my, Grace, you have no idea what happened to us. It was right after you reminded us to be careful. In the middle of the night, we suddenly heard someone banging on the wall next door. It woke both your father and me up. Your dad got so angry that he knocked back twice, and then it went quiet. Guess what? The next day, we heard that someone in the next room had been murdered and that the word "murder" had been painted in blood on the wall. Terrifying! We have no idea if it was a person or a ghost knocking on the wall before, but we were so scared that we immediately changed hotels.

Grace's face drained of color. Her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely hold her fork and almost lost control right then and there.

The evening before Adrian returned to the country, Grace received another call from Benjamin. He said, "Ms. Catherine, come over tonight to entertain a guest for me. The car will be waiting for you outside the campus."

His tone was polite, but it left her no room to refuse.

Sitting in her office, she took out the knife she had prepared long ago. She hesitated before slipping it back inside, clutching it tightly. She couldn't take the risk. She had no room for failure.

A black car transported Grace to a villa in the hills, where a small party was underway. Dizzying music pulsed through dimly lit rooms while indulgent men and young women were everywhere in sight.

Grace's attire stood out like a sore thumb, drawing stares the moment she entered. Ignoring the attention, she scanned the room until she spotted Benjamin leaning against the window. She walked straight toward him.

"Mr. Norman," she said calmly, standing before him.

He held a glass of wine and was engaged in conversation with someone. Though two bikini models were nestled close to him, he kept his attire fully buttoned. He turned at the sound of her voice, gave Grace a fleeting glance, and gestured toward a leather sofa in the distance with his wine-holding hand. "Go keep Mr. Clarence company," he instructed.

She followed his gesture and saw a heavyset African-American man in his forties with thick lips and a sleazy-looking face. He had been staring at her since she arrived.

She didn't refuse, walking over obediently. No sooner had she sat on the sofa than his bulky body pressed against hers. He grabbed her hand and grinned. "Hey, beautiful. Come here."

His palm slapped her thigh hard and remained there.

Unchanged in expression, she let his hand slide slowly up her leg, never glancing toward Benjamin.

The fat man grew increasingly bold and soon found the clothing barrier unsatisfying. He reached under her skirt. Grace could endure it no longer. She pressed his hand down firmly and murmured softly, "Boss, not like this. There are people here."

The fat man chuckled. "Are you shy? It makes it more fun. I love girls like you."

His voice carried, prompting immediate jeers from the crowd. "Why don't you just get down to it?"

Clarence chuckled at the suggestion and began pushing her toward the sofa.

As she pushed back, her hand slipped toward her purse. The moment her hand entered it, her wrist was seized.

Michael had appeared behind the sofa unnoticed. His large hand gripped her slender wrist tightly as he asked expressionlessly, "What was Ms. Catherine reaching for?"

The chaotic room fell instantly silent. Clarence froze, looking down at Grace with a strange expression.

Grace remained half-reclined on the sofa, calmly meeting Michael's gaze. "Nothing," she replied.

Michael didn't believe her. He tightened his grip slightly and yanked her hand out of the bag. Seeing that her fingers were clenched tightly, he ordered coldly, "What's in your hand?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she turned her head to look at Benjamin. He was wrapped around a model and was watching her, too. A faint, mocking smile played on his lips as if he had been waiting a long time to see this show unfold.

Slowly, she lifted the corners of her mouth too. She gradually opened her palm, revealing a small, square foil packet. She asked him, "Mr. Norman, are we not allowed to use condoms anymore?"