Ophelia’s response was swift, a crying emoji followed by a plea. She claimed she was at her wit’s end and didn’t know what else to do. If Cedric wouldn’t help her, she’d have no choice but to sell herself that very night. To seal her act, she attached a location pin.
The address? Cedar Ridge’s notorious red-light district.
Cedric, unable to ignore the urgency in her words, urged her not to make any rash decisions. Moments later, he left to find her, following the location she had sent.
From that moment on, their conversations grew more frequent, each one tinged with an intimacy that bordered on the forbidden.
Ophelia often peppered her messages with flirty emojis, kisses, hugs, and hearts. And Cedric, caught in her web, began responding with indulgent amusement, his restraint slowly eroding.
Judging by the timestamps, Dione realized that many times when Cedric claimed to be meeting clients, he was, in fact, with Ophelia.
As she read through the explicit chat logs, it felt as though a sledgehammer was pounding relentlessly against her chest. Each revelation stole the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping in agony.