MY WIFE IS A STRIPPER
CHAPTER NINE
The next day, my uncle was home. We were eating dinner, but I could barely bring myself to look at Patricia. The disgust I felt toward her grew with each passing second. Sharing the same space with her, breathing the same air it made my skin crawl. I knew that if I had any hope of getting my uncle to believe me, I needed concrete evidence. I began to plot different ways to get my hands on her phone, hoping it would contain the proof I needed.
As I went over my plans, something unexpected happened. One evening, my uncle came back in a rage, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a fury I had never seen before. He stormed past Patricia and me without a word, retreating to his study. The tension in the house was so obvious one could hardly deny. I knew something serious had happened.
Worried, I tried to talk to him, but he just ignored me, his eyes dark with anger. My mind raced with possibilities, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Patricia had something to do with it. Determined to find out what was going on, I approached him later that evening, hoping to coax some information out of him.
“Uncle,” I began carefully, “can I ask you something?”
He looked up from his desk, his expression still clouded with anger. “What is it, Fred?”
I hesitated, then asked, “If you found out that someone you trusted had been betraying you for a long time, what would you do?”
His reaction was immediate his eyes widened in shock, as if my words had struck a nerve. For a moment, he didn’t respond, but then he sighed heavily. “It depends on the gravity of what that person did,” he finally replied, his voice tense.
Sensing an opening, I pressed on. “Why have you been so angry, Uncle? You haven’t been yourself.”
He hesitated, then leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as if trying to dispel a headache. “An image was sent to me,” he said slowly, as though the words were difficult to speak. “It was of one of my most trusted elders, someone I’ve known for years, frolicking with a woman I couldn’t identify. It’s not just the act itself that angers me it’s the betrayal. The person who sent it claimed that the woman was someone I hold in high regard.”
Patricia? I said to myself. It had to be her. But why would someone send my uncle such a picture? And who was behind it?
“The stranger who sent the image threatened to expose it to the public,” my uncle continued, his voice heavy with frustration. “If this gets out, it could ruin not only the elder but also damage the reputation of the church and everything I’ve worked for.”
I could see the weight of the situation pressing down on him. My uncle had always prided himself on his integrity, and this scandal, if it became public, would devastate him.
But as he spoke, an idea began to form in my mind. If I could find a way to access sender’s phone location perhaps I could uncover who sent the image or even find something incriminating about Patricia. If Patricia was involved, there might be a trail leading back to her. I would have to tread carefully, but it could be the key to exposing her for who she truly was.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this, Uncle,” I said, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible. “But maybe there’s a way to find out who sent the image. Do you still have it?”
He nodded, pulling out his phone. “I do, but the number was hidden. I tried tracing it, but nothing came up.”
“I can try to look into it, if you’d like,” I offered, hoping he would agree.
He hesitated, then handed me the phone. “Be careful, Fred. If this gets out, it could destroy everything.”
“I understand,” I assured him, taking the phone. “I’ll do my best to find out who’s behind this.”
As I left his study, a sense of determination filled me. I was playing a dangerous game, but I was prepared to see it through. Patricia had underestimated me, and now, I was ready to turn the tables. The truth would come out one way or another.
TO BE CONTINUED
