For someone scared of ghosts, seeing a white figure inside their own house is nothing less than a nightmare. And getting that nightmare first thing in the morning? That's the worst start to a day I can imagine. Ghosts are the creatures I fear most—closely followed by the one I hate most: my sister.
Back to Jake. He stood there covered in flour from head to toe, clutching a knife like the star of a low-budget horror movie. Apparently, he couldn't see clearly, which explained his slow, awkward shuffle across the kitchen.
"I was just making breakfast for us," Jake began, "when I accidentally dropped a piece of meat on the floor. I bent down to pick it up… and the container full of flour fell on my head."
The mental image alone was enough to make me smile—but then that smile turned into a laugh. And then into a full, uncontrollable fit of laughter that shook my lungs.
Still laughing, I wiped the flour from his eyes so he could see my reaction.
"You… you're laughing at someone's misfortune," he said, his eyebrows arching in equal parts embarrassment and mock anger.
"I'm sorry," I managed between chuckles, though the words were followed immediately by another burst of laughter. "You just looked so funny—I couldn't help it."
Jake crossed his arms and tilted his head away in a mock pout. "Your face should've been recorded. The way you fell down, assumed I was a ghost, and ran to the corner, praying for me to disappear…"
My smile faltered. "You—"
He wasn't letting it go.
"And when you saw the knife in my hand? The way you froze and backed away? Leo, those reactions were way too real."
I straightened from my crouched position, trying to salvage some dignity. "I was just playing along with you in your little game."
Jake stepped closer, brushing the last traces of flour from his face. His voice dropped as he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "Don't worry—your secret is safe with me."
A wave of heat ran through my body at the words, raising my internal temperature by a degree.
"I…" My tongue tripped over itself. "We… we need to get ready for work. I'll be in the car—just, um, come down quickly."
Without waiting for his reply, I bolted out of the kitchen like the scene of a crime, hoping my flushed face wasn't too obvious.
After waiting for about an hour, he finally decided to show up. Well, to be fair, he was on time—it was me who had rushed downstairs far earlier than necessary, just to successfully hide from Jake. More specifically, to hide from the embarrassment his words had left me with.
He opened the door of my car and settled into the passenger seat like it was second nature. The entire drive from my condo to our workplace passed in silence, which, honestly, I didn't mind. I've always liked the smooth calm of a quiet car—driving is something I love. If someone asked me to spend an entire day behind the wheel, I'd probably agree without hesitation.
As soon as we reached the parking space, Jake jumped out of the car, abandoning both me and the warm spot he'd been sitting in. I stayed for a moment, staring at the empty seat before grabbing my own things and following him out.
He must have had urgent work to do. That's probably why he bolted so quickly. After all, they did have their annual party today.
By the time I reached my office, the walk from the car had ended—but my thoughts about Jake hadn't. They lingered stubbornly, like a song stuck on repeat.
A phone call snapped me out of it. The caller was someone who rarely called unless he needed something—Raven.
"What is it?" I answered, my voice still carrying that early-morning edge.
"At what time are we going to visit the club?" Raven's voice reminded me of our scheduled meeting with the club manager. With everything that had happened this morning, that little detail had nearly slipped my mind.
"Right… the meeting."
"Did you forget?" he pressed.
"Of course not."
"Good. Then what time?"
"Around 7 or 7:30. Don't worry, I'll pick you up after work."
With that, the call ended, and I turned back to my tasks—though my mind kept wandering elsewhere.
Meetings and contracts are the fastest way to drain your energy. All this CEO work exhausts me to the point where, by the end of the day, all I want is to finish as quickly as possible and collapse into a cozy bed.
A message notification snapped me out of my work. It was from Raven. One glance at my watch told me it was past 7:15—I was late. His messages practically screamed through the screen. I texted back that I'd be there in ten minutes.
Even though I'd promised ten minutes, I reached his office in five. He was already standing at the entrance, a leather bag in one hand. Without a word, he opened the car door and slid in beside me.
There was no conversation during the drive, but I could tell he was cursing me out internally. Fair enough—we were late, and that was on me.
The bass-heavy thump of music from the club was audible even before we stepped inside. The manager was seated in the corner, staring into space, clearly expecting us.
We took the seats across from him, and the interrogation began—questions about the leaked footage, details, names. The conversation didn't last long, but it was enough. We finally had solid evidence, and with it, the ability to take legal action.
I told Raven to find his own way home; I had somewhere else to be—specifically, picking Jake up from the party. He didn't argue, just got out of the car and waved me off.
The hotel wasn't far from the club, so I reached on time. Early, even. I decided to surprise him.
The hall was massive—music, food, and décor blending into a lively hum. People were laughing, dancing, enjoying themselves. Everything about the place was high-class, and it showed.
I scanned the crowd until I spotted him—Jake—sitting with a group of people, his back to me. I started walking toward him.
Then a man slid into the seat beside him, far too casually, like he belonged there. He held a glass of wine in one hand, gesturing toward Jake in a way that immediately set my teeth on edge. I ignored the discomfort and kept walking.
But then the man's hand went to Jake's waist. He gripped it—possessive, invasive—and pulled Jake closer, closing the gap between them. His touch slid lower, unmistakably wrong.
The anger that sparked in me was instant and blinding.
I didn't say a word. I just moved—straight toward them—grabbed Jake's hand, and led him out of the hotel without a single glance back.