Morning sunlight spilled gently into the guest room, slipping through the half-drawn curtains in warm golden streaks. The rays stretched across the carpet, glowing softly against the cream-colored walls. Dust particles floated lazily in the beam of light, dancing every time the breeze from the slightly open window drifted in.
A faint scent lingered in the room, clean soap mixed with a subtle, masculine warmth. Charles... It was his scent, comforting yet somehow dangerous to her sanity. Ava's chest tightened unexpectedly.
On the bedside table lay a neatly folded note.
She blinked her sleepy eyes open, reached for it, and unfolded it.
"Morning, Ava.
There's breakfast on the table. Eat and go to school.
Don't go back home yet until I tell you.
Have a good day."
The handwriting was clean, slightly slanted, confident. Exactly how she imagined him.
Ava's lips curved into a soft, involuntary smile.
It's been forever since anyone wrote a letter just for me... She traced the lines with her thumb, her cheeks warming as the thoughts crept in. So I'm really not going home... And I don't know why that makes me feel... safe? No, no, Ava, don't think like that.
She glanced at the clock on the wall.
7:33 A.M.
Her eyes widened. "I'm gonna be late!"
She jumped out of bed, blankets flying behind her, and sprinted to the bathroom. Her toothbrush nearly slipped from her hands as she rushed. She washed her face, combed her hair roughly, threw on her uniform, grabbed her bag, and dashed downstairs where the scent of fresh breakfast made her pause for just a second.
She wanted to eat, but she didn't have the time.
She grabbed a slice of toast, shoved it in her mouth, and ran out the door.
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♥ A FEW MOMENTS LATER ♥
The school grounds were already buzzing with students. Ava pushed through the gate, nearly colliding with a group of boys.
"Watch it!" one of them snapped.
"Sorry!" she shouted breathlessly, running past them.
She weaved between students, her shoes tapping loudly against the polished hallway floor. People turned their heads as she sped by, her bag bouncing against her shoulder. She ignored the stares and pushed forward.
I need to talk to Charles... maybe he came earlier.
Her heart pounded, not just from running, but from nerves.
She stopped in front of his office door and pushed it open.
But it wasn't Charles inside.
It was Ms. Britney.
Ava froze.
Britney slowly turned her head, her eyes narrowing like she had been waiting for this moment. She stood up from the chair, crossing her arms and leaning casually against Charles' desk, possessively.
"What-" Ava began, breathless.
Britney didn't let her finish.
"Why are you living with Charles?" Her voice was sharp, dripping with hostility.
Ava's heart dropped. How does she know? And where is Charles? Why isn't he here...?
Britney took a step forward, her heels clicking on the floor.
"Are you two a thing or something?" she continued, her tone twisting with jealousy.
Ava opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Britney slammed her fist on the table so hard the pen holder rattled.
"ANSWER ME! Did you suddenly become deaf?"
"I-I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not living-"
"OH, CUT THE CRAP!" Britney snapped, her voice echoing in the office.
"I saw you getting out of the car with him last night! I'm asking you ONE more time, why are you living with him? Huh?! Why would he choose someone like you over me?"
The words hit Ava like a slap.
Heat stung behind her eyes as her breath caught.
And she did the only thing her shaking body could do.
She turned and ran.
"Ava!" Britney shouted, heels stomping the floor. "GET BACK HERE!"
Ava didn't look back. She bolted down the hallway, breath trembling, heart shattering, her mind spinning as fast as her legs.
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Charles pushed open the door to his assistant's office with a force that made the door hit the wall behind it. Jay flinched in his seat. Charles didn't say a word at first, he simply strode across the room and slammed a photograph onto Jay's desk.
The picture showed Jacob mid-glare, as if he hated even having his image captured. His jaw was sharp and unshaven, eyes cold and sunken with cruelty. A faded scar cut across his left cheek, and his smirk looked more like a warning than a smile. He looked like the kind of man who enjoyed hurting people. The kind of man Charles would gladly destroy.
"Look into this," Charles said, voice low and hard. "His name is Jacob. I need everything, where he works, who he knows, where he sleeps. All of it."
Jay picked up the photo, and the color drained from his face.
"This Jacob...?" he whispered. "You're sure?"
His hands trembled slightly as if he recognized the danger behind that scarred smirk. As if he'd heard stories about this man.
Charles' stare sharpened, dark and commanding, already losing patience.
He was about to answer...
... but his phone vibrated violently in his pocket.
🥀
Andrew was calling.
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TO BE CONTINUED....