OMG 😱 Fatt entered in Bethany room and do some unexpected

 The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Bethany had been dreading this moment all week, pacing her room, trying to organize the chaos of her thoughts. She had just sat down at her vanity, staring at her reflection, when the door creaked open.

She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The heavy, deliberate footfalls were unmistakable.

Fatt.

He didn't knock. He didn't wait for an invitation. He walked straight into the center of her room, his eyes scanning the space with an intensity that made Bethany freeze. He looked different—disheveled, yet calculated. He wasn’t there for a casual visit, and the sudden shift in his demeanor sent a jolt of electricity down her spine.

"I thought I told you to stay out of my things," Bethany started, her voice shaking slightly, but Fatt didn't let her finish.

He stopped in front of her bookshelf, his fingers grazing the spines of the books she had meticulously arranged. Then, he did something completely unhinged. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a stack of old, crumpled photographs—the ones Bethany thought she had burned months ago.

He tossed them onto her vanity, scattering her makeup brushes and perfume bottles.

"You think you’re so good at hiding the truth, don't you?" Fatt growled, his voice low and vibrating with a strange, dark humor.

Bethany spun around, her heart hammering against her ribs. She looked down at the photos. They weren't just random shots; they were clear, undeniable evidence of the secret meeting she’d had with Isaiah last month. The very thing she had sworn to everyone never happened.

"Where did you get these?" she gasped, her hands trembling as she reached for the photos.

Fatt leaned in close, his face inches from hers, his expression shifting from anger to a chilling, smirk-like grin. "I don’t look for things, Bethany. I just let them fall into my lap. And guess what? I’m not here to expose you."

He reached out, his hand hovering over her shoulder before he abruptly turned and grabbed her phone off the bed. Before she could react, he typed something quickly, clicked a button, and tossed the phone back into her lap.

"I'm here to make a deal," he said, walking back toward the door without looking back. "If you want these photos to stay between us, you’re going to help me get to Larry. And you're going to do it exactly how I say."

As the door slammed shut, Bethany grabbed her phone. Her pulse stopped. He had sent a draft message from her account to Isaiah—a confession that would ruin everything she had spent the last year building.

She stared at the screen, the room spinning around her. The game had completely changed, and for the first time, she realized she wasn't the one holding the cards anymore