Chapter 7: Chapter 7

459 words

<html><head></head><body>Jessica and I exchanged glances, our hearts heavy as if weighed down by a hydraulic jack. I let out a cold snort. "Now you see what kind of scum they really are." Jessica lowered her head guiltily, remaining silent. I clenched my fists tightly, a reckless idea surging through my mind. I wanted revenge—to make them pay for spreading those rumors about us. But just an IP address wasn’t enough. We needed more concrete evidence. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the IT specialist staring at Jessica with infatuation. It hit me—he was the one who single-handedly managed the school’s forum. Maybe he could help. After a moment’s thought, I turned to him for assistance. "Hey, handsome, is there any way to hack into someone’s phone and extract their data?" Jessica played along, tugging at his sleeve and batting her lashes, completely bewitching the tech geek. After some consideration, he handed us a link. "It looks like a normal link, but it’s actually malware. Once it infiltrates a phone’s system, it can monitor and extract all the data stored inside." With this virus, we could easily break into their phones. The evidence would be ours in no time. As we left, the IT specialist eagerly added, "Feel free to come to me anytime if you need more help." I couldn’t help but give Jessica a thumbs-up. Sometimes, a little charm really did save unnecessary trouble. Since I no longer had any contact with Reginald, planting the virus would have to be Jessica’s task. She was still pretending to be inseparable from Martin, so getting her hands on his phone wouldn’t be difficult. I waited anxiously for Jessica’s update, my palms slick with sweat. Finally, my phone buzzed with a notification, sending my heart racing. With trembling fingers, I opened the compressed file she sent. Inside were countless files—gigabytes of photos from their phones and an endless collection of sex tapes. A quick skim revealed five different women in the footage, some of whom I recognized. A chill ran down my spine. They had recorded themselves sleeping with other women. Was this their way of controlling those unsuspecting girls? The next set of images—screenshots from their chat logs—answered my question. Reginald: Check this one out. Prime catch, huh? Martin: You’re not keeping her all to yourself, are you? Reginald: Back off. Didn’t I let you have the last one? This one’s mine. Martin: I’m getting bored with mine already. Reginald: Fine, fine. Once I’m done, you can have her for a few days. Martin: Deal! I glanced at the date—it was the first day I had been quarantined at home. Turns out, from the very beginning, they had already treated me like an object to be traded. </body></html>