008: The Blackmail

~Elena’s POV~

I’m out of Mateo’s apartment before he can stop me, phone gripped tight in my hand, Rebecca’s blackmail photos burning in my mind.

“Elena, wait…” He’s behind me, grabbing keys, following me down the stairs.

“I’m handling this.”

“By doing what? Confronting her at two in the morning?”

“Yes.” I hit the street, scan for a taxi. The street is empty. I start walking toward the main avenue.

Mateo catches up, grabs my arm. “You’re not thinking clearly…”

“I’m thinking perfectly clearly.” I spin to face him. “Rebecca has photos that will destroy us both. She wants a grade and a recommendation. We give her neither. We take those photos and we bury her.”

“How exactly do you plan to do that?”

I’m already texting. ‘Café Nocturn. One hour. Come alone or I send everything to the ethics committee.’

Rebecca’s response is immediate. ‘What do you have on me?’

‘Guess you’ll find out.’

I show Mateo the exchange. He’s shocked.

“This is a mistake. Let me handle her…”

“She’s blackmailing you for grades. That makes it academic misconduct.”

I flag down a taxi that’s appeared on the avenue. “But she fucked my boyfriend in my bed. That makes it personal.”

We take the taxi with only one thing in my mind, hatred for Rebecca.

Café Nocturn sits in the Gothic Quarter, one of the few places open all night. Harsh fluorescent lights, scattered students cramming for exams, the smell of burnt coffee and desperation.

Rebecca is already there when we arrive. She’s in the back corner, looking smug. That smugness falters when she sees Mateo with me.

“I said come alone,” she says as we approach.

“And I said a lot of things while you were screwing my boyfriend.” I slide into the booth across from her. Mateo sits beside me. “Guess we’re both liars.”

Rebecca’s eyes dart between us. “I have photos. You can’t threaten me…”

“Show me.”

She hesitates, then pulls out her phone. Swipes through images. All from Tuesday, clear shots through Mateo’s office window. His hand under my skirt. My head thrown back. The angle makes it obvious what’s happening.

“These are time-stamped,” Rebecca says. “Dated, impossible to deny.”

“How many copies?”

“Enough. Cloud storage, external drive, sent to a friend who’ll release them if something happens to me.”

She leans back, confident again. “So here’s what’s going to happen. Professor Sandoval gives me an A in his class and writes me a glowing recommendation for the graduate program. Or these go to Dean Morrison first thing in the morning.”

I pull out my phone. Set it on the table between us. Press record.

“Say that again. The part about the grade and recommendation.”

Rebecca’s eyes widen. “You’re recording this?”

“Say it again. Or I send what I have to Morrison right now.”

“You’re bluffing. You have nothing…”

I open my photos. Pull up images from three weeks ago. Rebecca and David, clearly identifiable, entering the physics lab at 11 PM. Another image: them leaving at 2 AM, David carrying my research notes.

“That’s the night my grant application materials disappeared from the lab,” I say quietly. “The night before the deadline. I had to recreate everything from memory, submitted a weaker application because of it.”

I swipe to the next photo. “This is David’s calendar. Sofia hacked it. See this entry? ‘Arrange R lab access.’ R for Rebecca.”

Rebecca has gone pale.

“Here’s what actually happened,” I continue. “David asked you to help sabotage my work. Promised you something in return. Maybe access to equipment. Maybe co-authorship on his next paper. Maybe just the satisfaction of hurting the girl who had what you wanted.”

“You can’t prove…”

“I can prove you accessed the lab outside authorized hours. I can prove David gave you his access code. I can prove my materials disappeared that night and that David submitted a complaint about my work quality to the funding committee the next morning.”

I lean forward. “How long do you think it’ll take the university to connect those dots once I file a formal complaint for academic sabotage?”

Silence. Rebecca’s hand trembles on her phone.

“Delete the photos,” Mateo says. His voice is cold. “All of them. Every copy. Every backup.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then Elena files her complaint in the morning. You get expelled for academic misconduct. Your transcripts get flagged. Every graduate program in Spain sees that you helped a student sabotage a competitor’s research.” He pauses. “Your entire academic career ends before it starts.”

Rebecca stares at us. I can see her calculating odds, weighing options.

“I could still send the photos. Burn all three of us.”

“You could,” I agree. “But you won’t. Because you’re not stupid enough to destroy your future just to hurt us. That’s the difference between you and David. You’re opportunistic, not vindictive.”

More silence. Then Rebecca starts deleting. Photos, cloud backups, everything. Her hands shake the entire time.

“Show me your trash folder,” Mateo says. “Empty it.”

She does.

“Now the email you sent yourself. Delete it.”

Gone.

“Any other copies?”

“No.”

“Swear it.”

“I swear, that was everything.” Rebecca stands, grabs her bag. “We’re done?”

“Not quite.” I stop recording, save the file. “You’re going to write a statement. Explaining that David pressured you into helping him sabotage my research. You’re going to sign it, date it, and give it to me.”

“Like hell…”

“Or I file my complaint anyway. Your choice.”

Rebecca sits back down. Pulls out paper. Writes for five minutes, hand shaking. Slides it across the table.

I read it. Complete confession. David’s involvement. Everything.

“Good.” I fold it, put it in my bag. “Now get out.”

She practically runs from the café.

Mateo and I sit in silence.

“That was…” he starts.

“Effective?”

“Terrifying.” He looks at me with something like awe. “Remind me never to cross you.”

“Too late for that.”

We’re standing to leave when his phone rings. He answers, face draining of color.

“What is it?” I ask.

He lowers the phone. “Campus security. They want me there immediately for questioning.”

“About what?”

“The office incident. Someone filed a formal complaint. They have witness statements.” He meets my eyes. “From David.”

We’re walking toward the exit when my worst fear materializes.

David steps through the café door, flanked by two campus security officers.

His smile is vicious. “Professor Sandoval. Miss Vega. What a coincidence finding you together at three in the morning.”

One officer steps forward. “Professor Sandoval, you need to come with us. Miss Vega, you should go home. We’ll need to question you separately.”

“Question us about what?” I demand.

David’s smile widens. “About the inappropriate sexual relationship you’ve been having in his university office. Don’t worry, Elena. I have all the evidence they need.”

The officers move to either side of Mateo. One speaks into his radio.

“I’m coming with him,” I say.

“That’s not possible, Miss Vega…”

“Then I’ll follow in my own car.”

David laughs. “Still trying to save him? It’s pathetic. He used you, Elena. Just like he’s used students before you. Ask him about his last university. Ask him why he left.”

I look at Mateo. His face has gone carefully blank.

“What is he talking about?”

“Not here,” Mateo says quietly.

“Professor, let’s go.” The officers gesture toward the door.

I watch them escort Mateo out. David lingers behind, steps close to me.

“You threw away three years for a man you barely know,” he says, voice low. “I hope he was worth it.”

I don’t respond. Just turn and walk toward the door.

David calls after me. “Oh, and Elena? You’re officially dropped from the physics program. Morrison signed the paperwork an hour ago. Effective immediately.”

I freeze. Turn back.

“You’re lying.”

He holds up his phone. Shows me an email.

It’s real. My dismissal letter. Pending ethics investigation, I’ve been suspended from all coursework and lab access.

The floor tilts beneath me.

David pockets his phone. “Guess your professor really wasn’t worth it after all.“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​