Eighty Four

Chapter 84

Cassandra opened the bathroom door with a heavy heart, her mind still clouded by her conversation with Alexander. The sound of water dripping from the faucet accompanied her steps as she opened the laundry basket to check the clothes needing washing. But as her eyes fell on the pile inside, they widened in shock.

On top of the pile lay Antonio’s white shirt, stained with blood. The red marks were stark, even though some had started to dry. Cassandra’s heart sank. Her hands trembled as she picked up the shirt for a closer look. There was no doubt—it was blood. A lot of it.

She stood frozen, holding the shirt in her hands. What had Antonio done? Was this his own blood, or... someone else’s? Questions swirled in her mind, but she knew she wouldn’t find answers just standing there. Quickly, Cassandra rolled the shirt into a bundle and scanned the room, her mind racing to find a safe place to hide it.

Walking out of the bathroom, Cassandra carried the shirt to the bedroom. She opened a bedside drawer but decided it was too obvious. Instead, she crouched and slipped the shirt under the bed, making sure no corner was visible. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

Just as she was about to straighten up, the sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway nearly made her jump. Cassandra turned her head, and there stood Antonio, already dressed in a sharp suit, raising an eyebrow at her.

“What are you doing?” Antonio asked, his voice low and calm, but his eyes were watchful.

Cassandra swallowed hard, scrambling for an explanation. “I was just looking for a clean towel,” she replied with a small smile, trying to sound casual.

Antonio nodded, his gaze briefly scanning the room before turning away. “I have to leave now. There’s an important meeting downtown,” he said as he headed toward the door.

Cassandra nodded, her eyes following his movements. “Be careful on the road,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

Antonio paused briefly in the doorway, turning back to give her a faint smile. “I’ll be back tonight. Get some rest, Cass.”

After Antonio left, Cassandra exhaled deeply, her body feeling weak. She returned to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, letting the hot water flow to fill the room with steam. Standing under the shower, her thoughts spun relentlessly, trying to untangle the mystery behind the bloodied shirt.

Cassandra knew she had to find out what had really happened. But how? And more importantly, what would she do if she uncovered answers she didn’t want to hear?

The warm water cascaded over her skin, washing away some of the tension she felt. But no matter how long she stood there, the fear and doubt refused to dissipate. Cassandra could only hope she would have the strength to face the truth, whatever it might be.

After ensuring Antonio had truly left, Cassandra took a deep breath. She opened the bedside drawer and retrieved the bloodied shirt she had hidden earlier. Her hands trembled as she held the fabric. The faint smell of dried blood made her stomach churn, but she pushed the discomfort aside. She knew that to find answers, she needed to bring this to someone who could help her.

Cassandra carefully wrapped the shirt in a black plastic bag. She ensured no stains were visible before tucking it into her large handbag. Moving quickly, she left the bedroom, locked the house, and headed to the garage.

Inside the car, her heart pounded. The thought of how Antonio might react if he found out she had taken the shirt sent chills down her spine. But Cassandra steeled herself. She had to do this—not just to uncover the truth but also to protect herself and the child she was carrying.

Cassandra arrived at the police station about thirty minutes later. She walked in, her handbag slung tightly over her shoulder. The air in the lobby was cold, and her footsteps echoed on the marble floor. Her eyes scanned the room for Alexander, but she didn’t see him.

She approached the reception desk, where a young female officer was busy typing on her computer. Cassandra tried to smile despite her nerves.

“I’m Cassandra. May I speak with Alexander?” she asked softly.

The officer looked up, studying Cassandra for a moment before replying, “Mr. Alexander is busy today. I’ll pass along your message.”

Cassandra frowned. “Please tell him it’s important. I need to speak with him.”

The officer shook her head. “I’m sorry, but his instructions are clear. He doesn’t want to be disturbed today.”

Cassandra held her breath, frustration creeping over her. “Could you at least let him know that Cassandra is here? Please.”

The officer hesitated but eventually picked up the phone. Cassandra listened to the brief conversation, and when the officer hung up, her expression remained neutral. “I’ve relayed your message, but Mr. Alexander still cannot see you.”

Cassandra felt her heart sink. Moving slowly, she turned and walked out. Her handbag felt heavier, as if it carried the weight of all her doubts and fears. She got into her car, placed the bag on the passenger seat, and sat still for a moment, staring at the road ahead.

Her fingers gripped the steering wheel, and tears began to flow down her cheeks. She felt utterly alone. She had tried to seek help, but now it seemed there was nowhere left to turn. What was she supposed to do with the bloodied shirt? Who else could she trust?

Cassandra started the car and began driving aimlessly. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of what Antonio might have done and how it could impact her life. But amidst all the uncertainty, one thing was clear: Cassandra knew that her next step could change everything—whether it would save her or lead to her ruin.