*Isabella's POV*
I answered the phone the moment I saw his name flash across the screen. "Where are you, Jacob? Why was the meeting cut short?" I demanded without even a hello. My nerves were already frayed, and I wasn't in the mood for cryptic bullshit. "It doesn't matter," came his voice—low, rough, distant. "I called to tell you I'm not coming back. I'm off for the day. You can go home too. Do whatever you want.
"What the fuck? "Excuse me?" I snapped, sitting up straighter in my chair. "What the fuck do you mean you're not coming back? We have work to do, Jacob." But all I got in return was silence. And then the line went dead. He hung up on me. Fucking hell.
I stared at the phone like it might suddenly come back to life and offer me a better explanation. Of course it didn't. Instead, I was left with the echo of my own frustration bouncing off the walls of an office I suddenly hated being in. "Where's my personal phone?" I muttered aloud, patting around my desk, already knowing the answer. "Oh, right… I left it in the meeting room."
Because of course I did. This day was a complete shitshow. I stood up, grabbing my badge and smoothing out my skirt with one hand. My recorder had stopped working this morning—because life clearly had it out for me—so I'd used my personal phone to record the meeting instead.
I marched down the hall toward the Diamond meeting room, heels clicking sharply with every step. The place was empty, just as I'd left it. I scanned the long, polished table, and there it was—my phone, sitting near one of the chairs, forgotten and silent. "Gotcha," I muttered, snatching it up. The screen was dark, but my home screen glowed to life at the touch of my thumb. The audio recording was still there.
Still saved. I stared at it for a moment longer than necessary, thumb hovering over the play button. But I didn't press it. Not yet. Instead, I slipped the phone into my purse, straightened my spine, and walked out of the room. Whatever the fuck happened after I left that meeting… I'll find out, later.
*The next day*
I was typing away at my desk, half-lost in numbers and nonsense when I finally glanced at the clock on my screen.10:03 AM.I paused, frowning. Jacob still hadn't shown up.What the hell?
He was always in early—usually before Damien, which was saying something. Even on his worst mornings, Jacob still showed up with that cocky walk and caffeine-fueled arrogance, like he owned the air we breathed. But today? Nothing.No texts. No calls. Just radio silence.
Weird.
I leaned back in my chair, chewing on the corner of my thumb for a second, trying to ignore the creeping sense of unease slinking its way through me. I mean, yeah, I call him out on his bullshit—frequently—but that's never stopped him from showing up to work before. If anything, he seems to enjoy it.
I stared at his empty office door across the room.What the fuck was going on with him?
A small part of me wanted to storm in there, demand answers, or at least throw a stapler at his chair for ghosting work like some emotionally unstable CEO on vacation mode.
But instead, I sighed and shook my head.I pushed the thought aside and turned back to my screen. Emails. Reports. Schedules. The usual chaos that didn't care whether Jacob was in or not.
Hours had passed. It was now noon, and that bastard still hadn't graced us with his oh-so-precious presence. I stared at the empty office across from me like it had personally offended me. Where the hell was Jacob? I'd called twice already, but decided to try again, just in case he'd remembered he was still employed here.
I tapped his name on my phone screen and brought it to my ear but of course he wasn't picking up. What a surprise. I ended the call with a sigh sharp enough to slice through glass and started canceling his afternoon meetings, again. My calendar looked like a warzone. Half the boardroom was expecting him, and the other half probably thought he'd been kidnapped. At this point, I was starting to wonder the same.
Just as I was about to shove my phone aside and drown myself in coffee, a notification pinged onto my desktop. Incoming Zoom Call: Gordon Lancaster. Shit. I sat up straighter, smoothing my blouse with one hand as I clicked Accept and watched the screen load. Gordon's face appeared—stern, silver-haired, and already annoyed. The kind of man whose frown lines probably formed during board meetings in the '80s and never left.
I forced a nervous smile and waved. "Hello, Mr. Lancaster." "Hello, Ms. Williams," he replied, his voice tight and clipped. "Is Jacob there?" Oh boy. "No, sir," I said carefully. "I—I haven't seen him since the meeting with Mr. Pheonix."
Gordon exhaled, frustrated. "I can't find him anywhere and he's not answering his phone. Not mine. Not the office's. Not even his mother's. What the hell is going on with him?" My stomach turned. That didn't sound like someone who was just playing hooky. "I'm sorry, sir," I said, keeping my voice professional. "I wish I had an answer."
He stared at me through the screen, eyes narrowing. "What happened in the meeting with Oliver Pheonix anyway?" "I…" I hesitated. Shit. "I don't know all the details," I said slowly. "But it seemed to go well when I was in there. Mr. Pheonix was even laughing."
"Well, you say that," he snapped, "but Oliver Pheonix called me yesterday. Personally. He said—and I quote—that he will never do business with this company again, and that I should thank Jacob for that decision."My eyes widened slightly. "He said that… exactly?" "Yes," Gordon growled. "And if Jacob did something to screw this up, I will find out."
"I... I... I wasn't there for some time," I stammered, trying to explain—though I wasn't even sure what I was trying to explain. Gordon's jaw clenched on-screen. "Ms. Williams," he said, voice low and tight with frustration, "so help me God, Jacob just ruined all of Damien's hard work. Years of groundwork, flushed down the fucking drain."
I swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry. "I don't know what happened, but I will find out," he continued. "I can't deal with this right now, but when Damien hears about this—" he paused, visibly steeling himself, "—just wait till Damien finds out. He won't take this lightly."
Shit. As if summoned by fate itself—or hell, more likely—my phone lit up and buzzed. I glanced down at the screen. Speak of the devil, he shall fucking call.