Chapter 25: Chad’s Pride
Although Chandler had publicly declared in a video that he would never give in, the ht of the legal notice in his hand left him deeply troubled.
His primary source of income came from gathering dirt on public figures and using it for blackmail, or posting such information for employers. Tik Tok was merely a tool to attract clients. While the money came fast, his extravagant spending habits left him unable to scrape together the $2 million he now owed. If he were sued, he would face not only crippling compensation costs but also the possibility of prison, losing everything he had built.
After some thought, Chandler picked up a burner phone and dialed a secure number, instinctively hitting the record button as the call connected. “Mr. Smith, his voice trembled with anger. “I made that video at your request, and now they’re striking back. You have to help me out of this!” “Panicking already?” came a dismissive male voice on the other end. “It’s just a legal notice. Your courage is smaller than a rat’s.”
“You promised me nothing would go wrong! Chandler shouted, his voice rising. “But they have full surveillance footage! If I lose this case, I’ll have to pay money I don’t have–and I might even go to jail?” “Calm down,” Smith’s voice suddenly turned sharp and dangerous. “We won’t let a valuable pawn end up in prison. But remember this his tone dropped to an icy coldness, “take the money, take the risks. And if you dare to speak out of turn…”
There was a click, the sound of a lighter sparking.
there’s always room at the bottom of the Hudson River for a computer–and its owner.”
Before Chandler could reply, Smith hung up.
“Fuck! Chandler gripped the phone tightly, realizing he was on his own, Unless absolutely necessary, he wouldn’t dare use these recordings to threaten his employers. Even if it helped him survive this crisis, those same employers would make sure he never lived to see another day.
After calming himself, Chandler decided to go on the offensive. Sitting at his computer, his eyes glimmered with desperation and madness as he searched for any dirt on Amelia and Elise that he could use to fight back
He dug deep into Elise’s background but came up empty–handed. As the daughter of a wealthy family and a young leader of her family’s law firm, Elise had always conducted herself with caution and dignity She had no criminal record, and her only flaw seemed to be an unusually high number of traffic tickets–not for speeding, but for bizarre infractions, making her a notorious menace on the road.
Frustrated, Chandler shifted his focus to Amelia, who lacked Elice’s privileged background and seemed more like an ordinary person. He found several tabloid articles about her in gossip columns covering New
York’s elite.
One article caught his attention. The headline read: Weatherfield Group Heir Chad Weatherfield’s Marriage on the Rocks–Wife Rumored to Be Dating the Mayor of New York
The accompanying photo showed Amelia dancing with the mayor, with a smaller image in the corner of Chad storming away, his face livid.
When Chandler saw Chad’s expression, his eyes lit up. “A high–society divorce battle, huh?”
Digging further, he learned that Amelia and Chad were in the midst of a divorce, fighting for custody of their daughter.
Chandler felt a surge of excitement. He believed he had found his lifeline. If he could collaborate with Chad, he might not solve all his problems, but at least he could escape the immediate threat of financial ruin. Within half a day, Chandler used his underground contacts to obtain Chad’s private number.
Taking a deep breath, he dialed.
“Mr. Weatherfield? This is Chandler Whitaker,” he said in a low voice. “I have a proposal you might find interesting regarding your custody case.”
There was a pause, followed by the sound of Chad’s impatient breathing. But he didn’t hang up.
Sensing an opening, Chandler pressed on. “I have access to.. sensitive material. And in my line of work, no one is better at uncovering private stories. I think we could help each other.”
“I’m at the Marshall Golf Club Chad said curtly. “You’ve got thirty minutes to get here.”
“Got it! I’ll be there right away!” Chandler exclaimed, pumping his fist in triumph.
He quickly prepared what he thought would be a compelling “partnership offer and drove to the Marshall Golf Club on the outskirts of New York.
Chad, dressed in a crisp white sports outfit and a sun visor, stood poised on the green. With a graceful yet powerful swing, he sent the golf ball soaring through the air, landing it neatly on the putting green. Chandler stepped out of the golf cart and, clueless about golf, clapped enthusiastically until his hands stung. “Great shot!”
Chad’s entourage glared at Chandler, their hostility palpable.
Chad stopped mid–swing and turned to face Chandler with a cold, assessing gaze, as though he were staring at a filthy hyena. He didn’t extend a hand to greet him or offer a word of welcome.
The sheer authority Chad exuded–a result of leading a massive conglomerate–forced Chandler to lower his stance instinctively.
“have plenty of dirt on your wife, Chandler began cautiously. “I was wondering if you’d be interested.”
Chad didn’t respond. Instead, he dismissed the caddy and approached Chandler with deliberate slowness, the metallic glint of his golf club catching the sunlight.
A sharp whistle cut through the air as the club struck Chandler’s right hand. The sickening crack of bone followed, and Chandler collapsed, clutching his hand and screaming in pain. The onlookers remained calm, clearly unfazed.
Chad twisted the club in his hands, his expression icy. “Do you have any idea what kind of impact this could have on my daughter?”
Through gritted teeth, Chandler stammered an apology. “Mr. Weatherfield, this is a misunderstanding! I can help you gather evidence-” Smack!
Chad struck him across the face, sending blood and teeth flying.
save your own skin already. His voice dropped. “One last time–who sent you?”
“Do you think I’m a fool?” Chad crouched, using the club to lift Chandler’s chin. “If you had anything real, you’d have used it to sa Chandler trembled uncontrollably. T–I can’t say. If I talk, I’m dead…”
Desperate, he begged, “I can still be useful! I can gather information for you!”
%
Chad sneered, standing tall. “A piece of filth like you dares talk about cooperation?”
He ordered coldly, “Delete the video, issue a public apology, and admit it was all a lie within 24 hours.”
Chad’s voice grew softer, almost a whisper. “If my daughter sees any of what you’ve posted…”
Chandler swallowed hard. He knew all too well what the wealthy were capable of. The Hudson River’s concrete foundations held countless “disappearances” like him.
Frantically nodding, he stammered, “I’ll fix everything! I’ll delete the video, apologize to those women, and clear everything up! I swear, your daughter won’t be affected” “And the money?”
Chandler’s face fell. “I don’t have it… I can only manage $500,000.”
“Get out of my sight.”
Chandler scrambled to his feet and fled, too terrified to even consider going to the police.
Back at home, he immediately posted a public apology on TikTok, deleted the video, and wired $500,000 to the account listed in the legal notice. Staring at his nearly empty bank balance, Chandler felt as though his heart was bleeding.
