Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
CharlotteVanBuren.
Ping.
The laptop switches on, and I’m left with a lopsided grin on my face. That asshole made my name his password? I’m not even surprised even though it’s creepy. It’s Easton Van Buren, after all.
I check his laptop files and try to find something about myself using the search option but to no avail. There’s no information about me on this thing except for the video files maybe. So I open those and press the timestamp for yesterday evening.
Our sexcapade was definitely caught on camera. In fact, my pussy is in full view and so is his dick as he strokes it. My cheeks heat again, and I gulp from the way he shoves that plug into my ass.
I close the file before I get all hot and bothered again. He has folders filled to the brim with videos such as these. What does he plan to do with them? Use them to jerk off to? Extort me with them?
Whatever the case, I can’t let it happen, so I immediately move all the files from last night into the bin and permanently delete them from his computer with a smirk on my face. I turn off the camera in this room for an hour so it won’t record me being in here, and I’ve also erased the footage it already took.
That’ll teach him not to mess with me.
But I shouldn’t forget why I came here in the first place; the entire reason I got myself in this situation so I could steal his key. He must be keeping something more from me because he knew my father and brother were having that celebration at the restaurant. I need to find out how.
I search his laptop through, leaving nothing uncovered. However, there’s little to nothing on this laptop about his business. Everything’s locked behind passwords, and no matter how many times I guess, I can’t figure it out, and it’s infuriating. For some reason, it also has no access to the internet either, which means I can’t send out an email or any other call for help.
I sigh out loud and lean against the desk, wondering if it was all for nothing.
That’s when my fingers slide along the locked drawer.
What if …
I immediately go to my knees and touch the lock. It looks the same as the one in the door, so I grab my key and push it in, twisting it. A click follows, and my heart jumps into my throat. I pull open the drawer and look around to make sure no one’s watching before I peer inside.
On the bottom lies a notebook … pink … fluffy …
Mine.
My eyes widen, and my breathing falters as I pick up the notebook I used as both a diary and a planner. I sink to the floor with the fluffy pink notebook in my hands. I’m shaking as I open it and read my own handwritten notes on the pages. My heart races, and my stomach twists as I sift through the pages finding that one date … the date my father’s company would be given to my brother.
It’s all in here. This is where he found out about the party at that restaurant.
From my notebook.
That I never gave to him.
In fact, I’ve never even carried it outside my little apartment.
My fingers tremble at the sight of the words.
Easton had this in his possession all this time. My notebook … stolen from my apartment. The same notebook that suddenly vanished a couple of months ago even though I turned my whole apartment upside down looking for it.
Easton’s been in my apartment, and he took something away from me without my knowledge. Without my permission.
Shivers run up and down my spine at the thought of him coming into my apartment when I wasn’t even there … or, worse, when I was.
Because there was this one night when I woke in the middle of what felt like a dream, when someone touched my face and hair, and a draft entered my room. What if it wasn’t a dream after all? What if it was … him?
What if he was there all along, watching me … stalking me?
My entire body feels numb and cold to the bone as I scramble off the floor with that notebook still in my hand.
No wonder he knows so much about me, about what I like, my style, my favorites, my dislikes. It’s all in here. This fucking notebook gave away my life. And he used it against me.
Tears well up in my eyes. I want to shred this thing to pieces. Rip it apart and chuck it out the window. But if I did that, I’d give myself away.
He’d know I’d been to his study alone, and that I’d meddled with his affairs. He’d know I’d stolen a key that belongs to him.