Page 30 of Grumpy Bossy Billionaire Enemy

I dreaded the big faith Amelia had in me. I had told myself that I couldn't have beaten Gary up in such a vicious way. But I'd doubted myself. My memory was still foggy, but I remembered drinking beside Taylor Hughes, who lived beside my parent's old house.

“What if it's true? What if I did it?”

“Then you'd know the truth.” Amelia replied. “It'd be better than to live in deceit for the rest of your life and pay up to some scumbag.”

“Thank you, I will do just that.” I kissed Amelia's cheek, reminding her that we were supposed to be on vacation.

“I'll start the investigation once we return home,” I promised.

“You need to get some sleep. I hired a helicopter to take us on a sky ride tomorrow morning.”

Amelia smiled; she removed her clothes and slipped into a silk nightgown. She had been hard to resist since I got to know her. But seeing Amelia in that revealing nightgown made it harder to resist the gushing urge to take her at this very moment. However, I held her and let tonight's revelation wash over her. My phone buzzed again. It was a text message from the journalist, impatiently asking to speak to me. A surge of uncertainty coursed through my veins. I feared what might happen soon. I feared for myself, afraid I would be found guilty of the accusation and go to jail.

However, most importantly, I feared to know what Amelia now thought of me, knowing about my ugly past.

Chapter fourteen

Dealing with the Blackmail

Amelia

We left the Maldives after three weeks of vacation. It was the best place I've ever visited. The serenity and the blowing beach wind made me wish we never had to leave. Henry shared the same thought because he constantly told me we'd retire to the Maldives once I had stopped working at the hospital.

I knew it was going to be a few years until then, but it was something to look forward to. The memories we created were timeless: the aquarium restaurant, the scuba diving, water sports, the local food tour, the beach parties, and the amazing outdoor sex. They were memories I'd cherish for life. While Henry wished we could stay a little longer, the blackmailing situation wouldn't allow it. Whoever this blackmailer was probably knew the truth about what had happened the night of the incident. I promised Henry I'd stay by his side while we dug into the case. We worked alongside Henry's private investigator while we narrowed down the names of people Henry remembered about that night.

Luckily, Henry remembered a few names: the lady he had gone to the club with, the bartender, Barry, the victim himself, and one Taylor Huges, who now owned a startup fintech company in Richmond.

We met with the bartender first. Henry was lucky to find the former bartender at the club where the incident had happened. He still worked at the club, not as a bartender, but as the manager.

When we walked into the club, the man recognized Henry immediately.

“I never thought I'd see you again.” The man closed his office door behind us as we sat there.

His name tag said Barry, jogging Henry’s memory.

"It's good to see you again, Barry." Henry shook his hand firmly. He gestured to me, introducing me as his assistant.

It was a cover we both agreed on so Barry and the others we were questioning wouldn't take things personally.

“You said you have some questions to ask?” Barry spoke hurriedly like he was currently wasting his time talking to us.

Barry was a huge man who could have a good career as a gym instructor or bouncer. His full beard made him look more intimidating than he sounds. His palms were twice the size of mine. I wondered if he ever smiled because he barely smiled at us. He covered the chair he sat on, and the air coming directly from the air conditioner didn't stop him from sweating.

Henry cleared his throat. “The night of Gary’s incident,” Henry started. “Do you remember anything significant about it?”

“That was eighteen years ago!” Barry told him that he barely remembered what happened yesterday; tasking him to remember what happened at his club eighteen years ago was torture.

“I just need you to remember, Barry.” Henry paused. “Do you think I beat up Gary that night?”

“You were drunk, Henry,” Barry said, “just like everyone in the club that night. When the crowd called my attention to the alley, you were standing over him with his blood on your hands.”

Henry sighed as he hit his head on his chair. “Did you look at the CCTV?” I asked on Henry’s behalf.

“There was nothing to look at because the CCTV in the alley had gone out days before the incident.

“You had a nasty exchange with Gary a few hours before he got beaten,” Barry interjected. "It was so heated that I had to separate you both; and when it happened, everyone believed you did it."

“But it doesn’t prove anything since no one saw him do it.” I tried not to raise my voice. “For all we know, he could just be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

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