Unremembered Beforefall by Mark Twain 8
Chapter 8 The Desperate Ploy
Chapter 8 The Desperate Ploy.
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Perhaps then Jasmine would see his “sincerity”, his supposed “influence” from Teresa. Perhaps her heart would soften.
He’d willfully forgotten how he and Teresa had torn each other apart after the charity gala.
He half-dragged, half-coerced the broken woman back to the tower now under Horizon Capital’s control.
The guards offered little resistance this time. They seemed to be acting on unspoken orders, their cold eyes as they watched the disheveled pair stumble past.
The top-floor corridor was chill and hollow. Their footsteps echoed with a stark, accusing clarity.
Kevin’s grip on Teresa’s wrist was a vise, the pressure making her wince, but he was oblivious.. “When we see her,” he hissed, “you tell her it was all you. You seduced me. You forced me. Understand? If she spares the company, I’ll make it worth your while.”
Teresa’s eyes were vacant, her face streaked with ruined makeup. The corner of her mouth twitched in a numb approximation of a smile. She said nothing.
The office door swung open again.
Kevin all but shoved Teresa inside, the two of them stumbling over the threshold. His face was a strained canvas of manufactured regret, frantic urgency, and feigned control. His voice, tight with panic, cracked as he spoke. “Jasmine! Listen to me! I brought this… this bitch! It was all her!”
He shoved Teresa forward violently, making her stagger.
“She threw herself at me! Set a trap! Poisoned my mind against you! She dug up some petty leverage and threatened me! I was weak, confused! I never meant to betray you! I’ve always loved you!”
His performance was desperate; his trembling finger pointed at Teresa as he cast himself as the innocent victim.
Teresa caught her balance. She looked first at me-seated calmly as if watching a bad play-then at the man so eager to sacrifice her whose features twisted into something grotesque.
The last vestiges of numbness and despair in her eyes ignited into a scorching, derisive hatred.
A raw, unhinged laugh tore from her throat. It was a sound to raise the hairs on one’s neck. “Kevin Stephenson,” she cut through his rant, her voice sharp as an ice pick, “still trying to pin everything on me? You think Ms. Watson is an idiot? That she’d buy this pathetic act?”
His face contorted. “Teresa! Shut the fuck up! This isn’t your place to run your mouth!”
“Run my mouth?” Teresa yanked her hand out of his grip like his touch burned her. She took a step back, ‘pointing at him-at me-like she was ready to broadcast the truth to anyone within earshot. “Let me tell
you exactly what this man is!”
09:48 Tue, Jan 20
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