Chapter 41: Confrontations and Confessions
The morning after the scandal was like waking up in the middle of a storm. The house was buzzing, but it wasn't the kind of noise that came from laughter or casual chatter—it was whispers, low voices carrying heavy tension from one hallway to another. The staff moved differently, almost stiff, as though afraid to breathe too loudly. Tammy felt the weight of it as soon as she stepped out of her room, wearing one of Jeremy's oversized shirts because she had no energy to pick anything for herself.
The look on her face told the whole story. She was tired. Not just from lack of sleep—though the endless calls, pings, and online articles kept her up—but from betrayal. Even though Jeremy had cleared his name, even though Zion and Wale had shown her timestamps proving he wasn't the one who leaked those pictures, she couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that the betrayal was much closer than she thought.
She had tried to hack but every clue was gone. The more she hacked and crashed a website that spread the news, five more would show up. She was exhausted.
When she walked into the dining room, Jeremy was already there, scrolling on his iPad with that sharp frown he reserved for business crises. His coffee sat untouched beside him, steam rising lazily. He lifted his head when she entered, studying her carefully like she was a glass that might shatter if he blinked wrong.
"You didn't eat dinner last night," he said quietly.
"I wasn't hungry." Her voice was flat.
"And this morning?"
She pulled out a chair and sat, arms crossed. "Still not hungry."
There was silence, heavy enough to choke on. The kind that makes the air thick. Jeremy set the iPad down, finally meeting her eyes.
"Tammy," he started, tone firm but soft, "I told you already—I had nothing to do with those pictures being leaked. You believe me, don't you?"
Her chest tightened. She wanted to say yes and mean it. She wanted to throw herself into the comfort of his certainty. But the words didn't come. Instead, she asked, "Then who? Who had them? Because those pictures… I barely even remembered taking them."
Jeremy leaned back, exhaling. "That's what I'm trying to figure out. Someone in this house is playing a dangerous game. They have access to things they shouldn't."
That single sentence shifted the air. Tammy's gaze snapped up, heart thudding in her chest. "Someone in the house?"
He nodded. "It's the only explanation. Zion's already checking the staff, and I've restricted phone access until further notice."
Her lips parted in shock. "You think it's the staff?"
"I think it could be anyone," he corrected. "Even people you trust."
The last line stung more than he knew. Tammy's mind instantly went to Rita, her supposed ride-or-die bestie, the girl who came back into her life with laughter and soft hugs. But hadn't Rita been oddly defensive when Tammy asked about loyalty the other day? Or was Tammy just imagining things because paranoia was chewing at her?
She slammed the thought down before it consumed her. "So now what? We just sit here and let blogs drag my name through the mud while your detectives play guessing games?"
Jeremy's jaw tightened. "We fight back."
"How?"
"By not letting them see us crumble." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "That's exactly what they want, Tammy. They want you broken, doubting me, doubting yourself. I'm not giving them that satisfaction."
His certainty should have been comforting, but Tammy couldn't quiet the nagging fear. Someone wanted her gone. Someone wanted to destroy her image before she could even step into the life Jeremy's world was dragging her into. And if Jeremy was right, the enemy wasn't far—it was close enough to hear their laughter, close enough to know when she left her room, close enough to know what her weakest insecurities were.
She excused herself not long after, unable to sit under his intense gaze. The walls of the mansion felt suffocating, closing in like they were keeping secrets. Everywhere she turned, there was a possibility: a maid carrying tea, a guard stationed by the door, even Rita's soft laughter floating from the library. It couldn't be Tayo right? No, Tayo has no access to her computers here and her phones.
Tammy paused outside the library, fingers tightening on the frame before she walked in. Rita looked up from her book immediately, smiling, though Tammy noticed how her eyes flicked quickly over Tammy's face like she was checking for cracks.
"Hey, babe. You okay?" Rita asked.
Tammy hesitated. "Am I okay? The whole country has seen pictures of me half-drunk at some stupid party, and now they think I slept my way into this marriage. What do you think?"
Rita's smile faltered, guilt flashing across her features—so quick Tammy almost missed it. But she didn't.
"I'm sorry," Rita said softly. "You don't deserve that. You're better than them."
Tammy sat across from her, staring. "Do you think Jeremy had anything to do with it?"
"What? No!" Rita's response was sharp, almost too quick. "Jeremy's obsessed with you. You think he'd sabotage you like that? Please."
Her laugh was forced, brittle. Tammy narrowed her eyes but said nothing, just hummed like she accepted the reassurance. She didn't.
Later that evening, Jeremy gathered Zion, Wale, and Tobi in his private study. Tammy wasn't supposed to overhear, but voices carried through the vent system in the old mansion, and she found herself sitting quietly in the hallway, heart racing as their words slipped through.
"We've narrowed it down," Zion was saying. "It's either someone with insider access or one of her so-called friends. The timestamps on those pictures line up with a private folder—one that couldn't have been hacked externally without triggering alerts."
"Meaning it came from a phone that had direct access," Wale added grimly.
Jeremy's voice cut in, low and dangerous. "Then we find out who. I don't care if it's staff, a family member, or someone Tammy loves. Whoever it is, they're done."
Tammy covered her mouth, bile rising in her throat. Someone she loved.
The rest of the night was restless. When she finally lay down, Jeremy slid into bed beside her, but the silence between them was unbearable. He touched her wrist gently, his thumb brushing over her skin.
"I need you to trust me," he whispered.
Her eyes stung. "I want to."
"Then do."
"It's not like you didn't do the same to me."
"I.." Jeremy didn't know what to say to defend himself cause she was right.
But when she turned her face into the pillow, she knew trust wasn't enough anymore. Not when someone inside their circle was waiting for the perfect moment to strike again.
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Tammy's mind replayed the leaked photos until dawn. Jeremy's determination gave her a sliver of safety, but the paranoia was louder. Someone in this house wanted her gone. Someone was lying to her face. And if Jeremy's investigation uncovered them, it wouldn't just be a confrontation—it would be war.
And Tammy wasn't sure her heart was ready for the confession that would follow.