Chapter 90

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(Hello! Sorry for not updating, I had pneumonia and was practically dying, but I'm good now haha. Have fun with the chapter xx)

Narrator

Pierre paced the length of Charles' apartment, his fingers running through his hair in frustration. The evening light filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room.
Charles sat on the edge of the bed, his face drawn with worry and fatigue - both for his brother and for Valerie.
The burden of the circumstances weighted heavily on his shoulders.

"Thank you," Charles finally said, breaking the silence, "for driving Valerie home."

"No problem," Pierre replied with a small smile. "Anything for you, mate."

Silence settled in the room again before the Frenchman stopped striding and sat down on the armchair across from Charles, the leather creaking slightly under his weight.
He glanced around the room, taking in his friend's belongings on each shelf without really addressing them properly, his mind occupied with forming his thoughts into words.

"Valerie met Raphael." he suddenly blurted out, his tongue unable to hold still any longer.

Charles lost his expression for a moment, but quickly recovered and raised a brow. "Did she tell you that?"

Pierre shrugged. "She appeared to need someone to talk to."

Charles nodded half-heartedly, his finger tapping nervously on his knee before Pierre continued.

"She seemed... bothered," he mentioned cautiously.

"By him?" Charles' interest gave the impression of being woken up.

Pierre nodded. "Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"She mentioned something odd about Raphael, and I can't stop thinking about it."

Charles looked up, his eyes showing a flicker of concern. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Pierre started, leaning back and crossing his arms, "Raphael is your bodyguard, isn't he? So, why is he here and not in Mexico, where he should be?"

Charles frowned, his brows knitting together. He looked out of the window, the horizon blurred by his troubled thoughts.
"I don't know, I don't make the guy's calendar."

Pierre nodded thoughtfully, his voice tinged with worry. "That's what I'm saying. There's something off about him." His eyes drifted around the room before meeting Charles' again. "And he's always around Valerie..."

Charles sighed, rubbing his temple. The stress was evident in every line etched on his face.
"I hate this," he said with frustration, "I hate that she's caught up in this whole situation. I never wanted that for her."

"I get that," Pierre said, his tone more serious now. "But maybe we are getting closer."

His friend gave him a confused look in return, allowing him to elaborate.

"Look, perhaps we should focus on the things in front of us rather than searching for strangers." Pierre said, but continuing as Charles' face didn't light up. "It is very suspicious that Raphael is here exactly when Arthur's accident happened. It could be a coincidence, but..."

Charles leaned back against an invisible wall, closing his eyes momentarily as if trying to shut out the reality for a second. "You think it's him?"

Pierre shrugged, though his expression was serious. "I don't want to jump in conclusions, but we have to consider it." he stated, raising his hands slightly in a defensive mode. "We don't know what he's capable of, and the last time I checked, he was pretty fond of Valerie."

Charles' eyes snapped open and his fists clenched lightly at his friend's words, but he briefly calmed to speak.

"But we know nothing for sure," he mumbled, lowering his head in frustration, "and we have no proof."

Pierre nodded, lifting himself up to settle down again next to his friend, patting him on the shoulder. "I know, but we'll just have to keep digging. He will make a mistake inevitably, sooner or later."

Charles grunted, going through his hair with growing irritation. "But I can't wait! I can't watch the days go past, knowing things should be different. All of this... the threats, the blackmail... I can't do this anymore..."

Pierre's eyes widened, his heart aching for his best friend. "We'll get him, I promise."

***

Valerie arrived at the paddock in Monaco. The Grand Prix was long over, months in fact. But she decided to pick up some stuff from work she had left there, since she was in town. Combine the pleasant with the useful.
Her mind was still reeling from the conversation with her brother. She could barely sleep, trying to figure this whole thing out.
What on earth could Raphael have done?
What could be so bad that Charles ended things?

As she walked through the corridors, the familiar hum of office chatter did little to soothe her growing unease. When she approached the conference room, she heard raised voices. Both which she couldn't confuse anywhere.

Peering through a glass window, she saw no one else than Raphael talking to Rebecca, heatedly. They seemed to argue.
Valerie found it odd; as far as she knew, they didn't know each other well.
The intensity of their exchange made her stomach churn. Raphael's usually composed demeanor was now replaced with agitation, and Rebecca's face was flushed with anger.

The feeling that rushed through Valerie's veins as she saw them both bothered her. It wasn't jealousy. Hell, she didn't care that he talked to another woman. But it madly disturbed her that he talked to Rebecca.
She knew what that woman was capable of.
And it wasn't the first time they were seen together either.

Determined to get to the bottom of things, Valerie slipped away unnoticed and made her way to Charles' drivers room.
She hadn't been there since they broke up, and being in his space again brought a rush of memories. The familiar scent of his cologne lingering in the air, the sight of his personal items - like he was just gone for quick 5 minutes.

Her legs barely moved as she addressed his neat desk, glancing at the clean surface.
Of course. Why would there be anything here when Charles would only return next year for the race?

She tried for the top drawer, finding a pile of papers inside. Her hands trembled as she sifted through the pages. She didn't know exactly what she was looking for, but something told her she was close to finding out.
Yet, everything she found were usual documents, letters from fans, invitations to long passed events.

Due to her clumsiness and shaking hands, a few papers fell to the floor. She cursed herself mentally and quickly kneeled down to pick them up.
While straightening up again, Valerie's eyes fell to the trash bin next to the desk. A bunch of crumpled pages filled it, along with a folded piece of paper. Unintentionally, she immediately reached for it as if it was screaming her name.

Be for real Valerie, sniffing around in other people's trash cans?

But she couldn't have cared less in the moment, her shaky hands struggling to unfold the paper.

Her breath caught as she read its contents.
Undoubtably, it was a blackmail letter.

Valerie could barely follow the lines, her eyes not transferring what she read to her brain.

"What?..." she whispered to herself, her voice trembling as she read the paper over and over again.

Her heart pounded rapidly as the pieces finally fell into place.

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