## Chapter 4: Shadows of the Past and a Night of Mistaken Identity
Ben's resentment had festered for years, a slow-burning ember threatening to ignite into a destructive inferno aimed squarely at Tessa. The memory of her past actions, the perceived betrayal, fueled a cold and calculated desire for retribution. One crisp Saturday afternoon, a digital missive landed on Tessa's phone, its contents designed to pierce her carefully constructed composure.
*I will tell the world your past secret, and I will destroy you.*
A tremor of fear ran through Tessa. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to call the sender, the unknown number mocking her with its silence. Moments later, another text message arrived, each word a calculated blow:
*I know you're trying to call. Don't bother. Meet me at Meg's Estate, Flat 49, Room 6, top floor. You have until evening. Fail to appear, and destruction will be swift. Don't breathe a word to anyone… or else.* The message ended abruptly, the number immediately blocking any further attempts at contact.
Panic clawed at Tessa's throat. Her mind raced, sifting through the carefully buried fragments of her past. The vague threat was terrifying precisely because it was undefined. After a tense internal battle, a desperate pragmatism won. She had to know who held this power over her.
The sterile anonymity of Meg's Estate felt heavy as she ascended to the top floor. Her hand trembled slightly as she pressed the doorbell of Flat 49, Room 6. The door swung inward, revealing Ben, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.
A wave of stunned recognition washed over Tessa. *How could I have been so blind?* The realization hit her with the force of a physical blow. "It's you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I… I messed up." Her bravado crumbled, replaced by a raw vulnerability. "So, what do you want?"
Ben's gaze raked over her, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her shoulder, sending a shiver of revulsion down her spine. "I need your sweet body, Tessa."
She recoiled, taking a step back. "I can't do this, Ben." She turned to leave, but he moved with surprising speed, his hand tangling in her hair, the sudden pain sharp and brutal. He yanked her back, his grip tightening.
"You don't know me, Tessa," he hissed, his face inches from hers, his breath hot against her ear. "Wait until the whole world learns about your deceitful little climb. Oh, should I refresh your memory? Street seller… no, that's too kind. *Ashawo*. Prostitute. That's who you were. I pulled you from the gutter, molded you into who you are today, and you think you can just discard me? Never."
"Leave me alone, you madman!" she screamed, her voice cracking as she struggled against his painful grip.
"Shout all you want," he sneered. "No one will hear you." He picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over a contact. "Let me just call Great and tell him what kind of cheap trash he's been sleeping with." A harsh, triumphant laugh erupted from his chest.
"You wouldn't!" Tessa's voice was a desperate plea, the carefully constructed walls of her life threatening to crumble.
"Oh, wouldn't I?" he countered, his eyes glinting with malice. "There's only one way you can buy my silence, Tessa. One way I can forgive your little attempt to erase me. You give me what I want. You have sex with me. And then, you do whatever I say." His tone was final, a cruel ultimatum.
"I… I won't. Never!" she choked out, defiance warring with the terror that gripped her. Ben's finger pressed down on Great's number. The shrill ringing tone echoed in the tense silence. Tessa's carefully cultivated world flashed before her eyes, the years of hard work, the social climbing, all threatened by this one call.
"Okay… fine," she whispered, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.
A predatory smile spread across Ben's face. "That's my girl. Now, take off your shirt." He released her hair, his gaze possessive.
He took his fill that day, a twisted satisfaction in reclaiming what he felt was his. The encounter left Tessa feeling汚れた and violated, but the threat of exposure hung heavy in the air. Ben, sated for the moment, extracted a promise of future compliance, a dark bargain sealed in the sterile confines of the anonymous apartment. Tessa, desperate to protect her carefully constructed life, agreed, her voice a low, venomous warning: "Stay away from me and Great."
Weeks drifted by, each day a tightrope walk for Tessa, balancing her carefully constructed relationship with Great and the dark secret she now shared with Ben.
Meanwhile, a different kind of intimacy was blossoming between Great and Sonia. He became a constant presence in her life, his messages and calls a steady stream of attention. He would often stop by her sleek office, his concern for her well-being palpable. The easy camaraderie they had once shared in college began to rekindle, the comfortable friendship slowly morphing into something deeper, a resurgence of old feelings. A flicker of jealousy would ignite in Great's eyes whenever he witnessed Sonia in a tender moment with Prince, a possessiveness he couldn't quite suppress.
Then, one day, Sonia fell ill. A sudden weakness overcame her, and she was rushed to the sterile environment of the hospital. Prince remained steadfast by her side, his worry etched on his face, his prayers for her swift recovery a silent vigil.
Great, upon hearing the news from Chila, rushed to the hospital. The sight of Prince hovering protectively over Sonia ignited a spark of possessive anger. Chila, ever the mediator, ushered Great into Sonia's private room. He approached her bedside, his concern evident in his touch as he gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead, a soft peck landing there. He pulled up a chair beside her bed, his presence a silent declaration.
Prince's composure finally snapped. "Do you even realize that's someone's girlfriend you're holding and kissing like that?" he fired at Great, his voice tight with barely suppressed fury.
"Come on, Prince, it's okay," Chila interjected, attempting to diffuse the tense atmosphere.
"It's time for you to leave," Prince ordered, his hand reaching out to pull Great to his feet.
"And who are you to decide that?" Great retorted, his own anger rising.
"As her boyfriend," Prince stated, his jaw clenched.
"Go to hell for all I care. I'm not leaving," Great said stubbornly, sinking back into his chair. Prince, losing his temper, grabbed Great and landed a solid punch on his jaw. Great retaliated instantly, a brawl erupting in the sterile confines of the hospital room.
"Can you guys just stop!" Chila's voice rose above the scuffle, desperation lacing her tone. "Don't you want her to recover? This is a hospital, for crying out loud! You're disturbing her and the other patients." Her words finally pierced through their rage. "Now both of you leave. Immediately. This minute." The two men, still seething, stormed out of the hospital in opposite directions.
Great retreated to the familiar solitude of his home, the adrenaline of the fight quickly giving way to a bitter frustration. He reached for a bottle of amber liquid, the smooth burn a temporary distraction from the turmoil within. "Who does that guy think he is?" he muttered to the empty room, the question a repetitive mantra as he drank himself into a stupor. He lay sprawled on the bar counter, the world blurring around him, when the front door clicked open.
Tessa stood in the doorway, her eyes widening at the sight of his disheveled state. "Oh, my God, Great! You're drunk. Come on, let me help you inside." She struggled to pull his heavy frame upright, guiding him towards the bedroom.
"Why are you here? Leave me alone… I'll deal with that… that Prince," he slurred, his words thick with alcohol. She painstakingly removed his shoes, his shirt, his trousers, her touch strangely gentle despite the turmoil. As she turned to leave, intending to let him sleep it off, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist.
"Sonia… please don't leave me," he mumbled, pulling her down onto the bed, his arms wrapping around her. He buried his face in her hair, mistaking her scent, her presence, for the woman who occupied his every thought. He began to kiss her neck, his touch fueled by alcohol and a desperate longing. In his inebriated state, boundaries blurred, and a desperate intimacy unfolded between them.
Great woke the next morning to a throbbing headache and a profound sense of disorientation. The sight of Tessa lying peacefully beside him, naked beneath the rumpled sheets, sent a jolt of horrified clarity through his alcohol-addled brain. "What are you doing in my room? And on my bed? Naked?" he demanded, his voice raw with anger and disbelief.
Tessa's eyes fluttered open, a practiced vulnerability washing over her face. "It wasn't my fault, Great," she whispered, a tear tracing a path down her cheek. "You… you forced me."
"Fuck," Great breathed, slamming his fist against the wall, the sound echoing his inner turmoil. *I'm screwed.* The weight of his actions crashed down on him, a crushing wave of regret. How would Sonia react if she ever discovered the truth of this drunken encounter? The thought was a cold dread that settled deep in his gut.