Page 85 of Dirty As Puck
She agrees, her voice steady. “I know. I want him to pay for this. For what he did to me, and for what he did to Kai.”
I sit back, the weight in my chest loosening just enough for me to breathe. This is it, the breakthrough I’ve been waiting for. A witness with proof. Someone who can validate everything I’ve been piecing together.
I glance at the scattered files and my laptop, determination coiling tight in my chest. With Kennedy’s testimony, I finally have strong grounds to fight Derek. I’m not just doing this for a story anymore. I’m doing this to save the man I love.
“Thank you,” I whisper into the phone.
I’ve been sitting at the desk for almost four hours now, only taking water breaks in between.
Papers continue to stack up in huge, disorganized piles around me, notes scribbled in the margins, files open to multiple tabs.
My hands hover over the keyboard, every nerve alert. I can feel the weight of the investigation pressing down on me, but I push on.
I start calling every number associated with Derek’s private investigator company, posing as a potential client. My voice is calm, professional, hiding the adrenaline rushing through me. Each call feels like a delicate dance, as I ask just enough questions, fishing for details, without revealing that I’m onto them.
Finally, a name surfaces on the company’s internal list of clients: Harold Morrison. I blink at the screen, the words frozen before my eyes. Harold Morrison. The last name hits me like a physical blow. I know it, I’ve always known something was missing. My stomach drops as realization dawns on me. This isn’t just another client. This is Kai’s biological father.
I lean back, pressing a hand to my forehead, trying to process the implications. Derek didn’t just manipulate Kai casually; he’s had leverage over him his entire life, wielding the connection to Harold like a weapon.
The harassment, the threats, the calculated schemes, they make all kinds of sense now. Every move Derek made, every moment of pressure on Kai, now carries a heavier, and more cruel context.
My fingers tighten around the mouse as I scroll through the rest of the files, cross-referencing names, dates, locations. Derek’s network is far broader than I realized.
He’s been systematically collecting information, exploiting relationships, and coercing people for years. Each client, each transaction, paints a picture of a man who thrives on control and destruction.
I feel a tight knot in my chest, a mix of fear, anger, and determination all rolled into one. The stakes aren’t just about exposing Derek anymore.
This is about protecting Kai from a man who has had power over him since birth. This is about revealing the hidden web of manipulation that has shaped Kai’s life in ways he might never have suspected.
I take a deep breath, forcing my pulse to slow. Every detail I uncover, every name, every payment, every forced arrangement brings me closer to dismantling Derek’s grip. I won’t stop. I can’t. Kai’s safety and his life depend on it, and now I know just how high the stakes are.
I pull my chair closer to the desk, eyes fixed on the screen. The investigation intensifies tonight. I will leave no stone unturned, no connection unexplored. Derek’s leverage ends here, and I’ll make sure of it.
I continue to tap my keyboard with sheer determination as I pull together everything I’ve gathered.
My laptop screen glows, casting shadows across the piles of papers and folders that have become my world these past days. I pause for a moment, breathing in, trying to center myself.
It hits me suddenly that this isn’t about chasing the next big story anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. Every late night, every risk, every secret I’ve uncovered, it’s all been for Kai.
For the man who broke through my walls without even trying, who saw me for me and trusted me with his world. My chest tightens with a rush of warmth and urgency. I am completely in love with him, and I’ve been trying to ignore it, rationalize it, hold it at bay, but there’s no denying it now.
I scroll through my notes again, each file a testament to Derek’s manipulation, each photo and record proof of Kai’s innocence. My fingers linger over the keyboard, then land, typing the first lines of what will be the most personal article I’ve ever written.
Every word I type is heavy with truth and heart, every sentence a shield and a declaration. I am writing not as a journalist trying to make a name, but as someone desperate to defend the man she loves.
The moral conflict tugs at me. Publishing this could end my career. No reputable outlet would touch a story from a “disgraced” reporter with a public scandal attached.
I know the risk and I know the cost. But the cost of silence, the cost of letting Derek’s lies and threats destroy Kai further, that is something I cannot bear.
My hands tighten on the keyboard, channeling my frustration, my fear, and my unwavering love into the words.
Every paragraph has become a weapon, every fact a shield. I defend Kai not only with evidence but with conviction, painting a picture of truth and justice in a world determined to see him fall. I pour my heart into every line, hoping and praying, that someone, anyone, will see beyond the headlines and understand.
Finally, I lean back, feeling exhausted, but resolute. The article is raw, personal, and fearless. I know the road ahead will be brutal, that repercussions are inevitable, but I also know that for Kai, for his name, and for the man who has captured every corner of my heart, this is the fight I must fight.
When I finish I slide the last USB into my backpack, my heart pounding against ribs that feel too tight. Every file, every recording, every piece of proof I’ve gathered on Derek’s network is here.
Most of my savings has gone into publishing, but it doesn’t matter. I can rebuild finances. I can’t rebuild Kai’s life if I delay.
