Blackmail Marriage Backfires on My Assistant

On Charlie's phone was a secretly filmed video.

The camera angle was awkward and tilted. From the speakers came the muffled, suggestive sounds of a man and a woman breathing heavily. Through the grainy footage, it was clear the encounter was taking place in the back seat of a car.

The woman in the video was wearing a suit jacket similar to the one I had on that day. Her face wasn't clear, but her voice and side profile did resemble Madeline's.

The guests, who had no idea what was going on, began to look at me with open disdain. Then, Charlie put on a face full of grievance and began accusing me loudly.

"That day, after I got in the car, you saw my clothes were soaked and said you were afraid I'd catch a cold. You insisted I take off my shirt," he recounted, "but I resisted. I tried to get out of the car, but you, as the CEO, ordered me not to move."

He looked every inch like the victim. "I'd just joined the company. I didn't dare fight back. I remember you saying you liked obedient men, that you'd marry me, so that's why I swallowed my pride and didn't call the police.

"Ms. Spencer, how could you toy with my feelings and then refuse to take accountability?"

His words were delivered with such righteous fury as if he had suffered some enormous humiliation. I ignored him and focused on examining the video carefully.

I had to admit, deepfakes were getting scarily realistic nowadays. The lighting and shadow on the figures were handled so well that I almost believed it myself.

"Mr. Langford, you really think you can call this deepfakes evidence?" I questioned, a chortle slipping out.

"Deepfakes? How dare you insinuate these are fake?" Charlie barked, as if he had been deeply insulted.

With a roar, he spun around and dashed toward the open-air balcony outside the ballroom. "Madeline Spencer, you abused your power to harass your subordinate. I'll die right here today and use my blood to expose your vicious heart!"

He moved fast. Before anyone could react, he had already climbed over the railing. His whole body hung in midair, swaying.

"Shit! Don't do it!"

"Somebody, help!"

The crowd erupted into chaos. Several security guards and guests rushed forward and grabbed his arms, holding on for dear life.

"If you won't admit it, I'll just die a used, abandoned man!" Charlie howled at the top of his lungs. "Is forcing your subordinate to death what you want?"

With this spectacle, those who had reserved doubts earlier now shifted to his side. After all, who would risk their own life to put on an act?

A few board members who had never gotten along with Madeline seized the moment to step forward.

"You're in the wrong this time, Ms. Spencer," one balding director said in a mocking tone. "If you've made a mistake, you should take accountability like a responsible adult. If someone dies over this, what'll happen to the company's stock price?"

"That's right. How can you still pretend to be innocent when that young man is ready to sacrifice his life? This is atrocious!"

I stood there under a storm of accusations, condemned by everyone, with no way to defend myself.

I took a slow breath, then looked toward Lorelei Green—my driver—who had been standing quietly in the corner. She was the only witness that night.

"Lorelei!" I called out sharply. "You were the one driving that day. Tell them—did I touch Mr. Langford?"

At the sound of her name, Lorelei flinched. She shuffled forward bit by bit, too cowardly to meet my eyes. However, her voice was loud enough for the people nearby to hear.

"Ms. Spencer, after we arrived at Mr. Langford's place, y-you did give me a thousand bucks… Said I should get out of the car to buy some late-night snacks… In the end, I waited for almost 30 minutes…"