---- Chapter 15 The basement was cold and silent. Blake moved through the long, dark corridor, his footsteps echoing ominously. The only sound was the frantic, desperate hammering of his own heart. He reached the storage room where Celesta-Celia-was kept. He didn't bother with the key. He drew back his foot and kicked the door in. The wooden frame splintered, and the door flew open, slamming against the concrete wall. Celia, who had been huddled on her thin mattress, shrieked in terror. She scrambled to her feet, backing into a corner like a trapped animal. She was a pathetic sight-her hair was greasy and matted, her face was pale and thin, and the gray uniform hung off her emaciated frame. The arrogant goddess was gone, replaced by a frightened, desperate woman. "Blake," she stammered, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and a flicker of hope. "You came." She tried to muster some of her old authority. "It's about time. This... this treatment is unacceptable! You must release me at once and fire every single person on your staff!" Blake just looked at her, his face a mask of stone. He walked into the small room, the broken door swinging on its hinges ---- behind him. The space was so small he was only a few feet away from her. "Shut up, Celia," he said, his voice a low, dead-calm rumble that was more terrifying than any shout. He held up the hard drive. "I found Ellen' s phone." He saw the color drain from her face. The last of her bluster evaporated, replaced by pure, naked fear. "| don't know what you're talking about," she whispered. "Oh, | think you do," he said. He took out his own phone, connected the drive, and hit play. Her own voice filled the small, cold room. Smug. Arrogant. Cruel. "..The man is a fool... He actually believes I'm some kind of ancient princess..." "|The little mouse from the working class... The more | hurt her, the more he feels he needs me..." ".l'm going to break him. I'm going to humiliate him so completely... It'll be as easy as stepping on an ant." He let the recording play to the end. The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Celia was trembling, her whole body shaking uncontrollably. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape that ---- didn't exist. Blake took a step closer. "You used me," he said, his voice a ragged whisper. "You played on my ego, my weakness. You turned me into your puppet. Your monster." He looked at her, but he wasn't really seeing her. He was seeing Ellen's face, her eyes full of pain and betrayal. "Because of you... because of what | let you turn me into... the best person | have ever known is dead." Celia' s fear suddenly curdled into a venomous, cornered rage. Her head snapped up, and she glared at him, her eyes shining with a crazed, malevolent light. "A fool?" she shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria. "Yes, you are a fool! The biggest, most arrogant fool | have ever met! You wanted to believe it! You were so desperate for someone to tell you how special you were that you would have believed anything!" She began to laugh, a wild, unhinged sound that echoed off the concrete walls. "And her father?" she cackled. "That pathetic old man with his stupid god? | enjoyed breaking him! | enjoyed watching the light go out of his eyes! And | enjoyed watching you let me do it!" She spat on the floor at his feet. "You both deserved it! You, with your stupid pride, and her, with her pathetic, goody-two- shoes act! You deserved everything that happened to you!" ---- Blake looked at her, at the ugly, twisted face of pure evil, and the rage inside him finally, mercifully, died. It was replaced by a vast, cold, empty disgust. She wasn't worth his anger. She wasn't worth any emotion at all. She was just... nothing. A parasite that he had allowed to fester in his life. He slowly, deliberately, reached out and grabbed her by the throat. Her laughter turned into a choked gurgle. Her eyes bulged with terror. He could feel her pulse hammering against his thumb. It would be so easy to just squeeze, to end her miserable existence right here, right now. But that would be too easy. Too quick. An escape she didn't deserve. His grip loosened, and he let her fall to the floor, gasping and sputtering. He looked down at her, his face completely devoid of expression. "You're right," he said, his voice flat. "| am a fool. The biggest fool in the world. And | will spend the rest of my life paying for it" He turned and walked out of the room. He didn't look back. He made a single phone call to his head of security. "I'm sending you a recording," he said. "It's a confession. Fraud, conspiracy, psychological torture... 'm sure the lawyers can find more. | want her prosecuted to the fullest extent of the ---- law. Use every resource, every connection we have. | want her to spend the rest of her life in a place much, much worse than my basement." He paused. "And make sure the evidence of my... complicity... is given to the district attorney as well." There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. "Sir... are you sure?" "Do it," Blake commanded, and hung up. He walked up the grand staircase of his silent, empty mansion. The revenge was done. The truth was out. And he had never felt more alone. The gaping, bleeding wound in his soul was not healed. It was wider, deeper, more agonizing than ever before. He had punished the architect of his ruin. But now, he was left with only himself to face. And he knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his bones, that his own punishment was just beginning. And it would last for the rest of his life.