JAKE’S POV“Well, that was unexpected,” the words slip out breaking the silence that had stretched just a little too long.Rachael turns her gaze to me with a blank expression, we both nod and let out a laugh—a nervous, awkward kind of laugh that didn’t quite cover the enormity of what had just happened.I stand, pull up my trousers, brush sand off my knees, and tighten the belt as Rachael adjusts her dress. She looks as composed as ever, like nothing had happened. If I hadn’t been there—if I didn’t still feel the heat of her touch—I might’ve believed it.“Are we still waiting for the sunrise?” I ask, not sure what else to say. My voice comes out lighter than I expected, like I wasn’t just trying to fill the silence.Racheal exhales and turns to me, her voice steady but devoid of emotion. “we don’t have to talk about it, Jake. It was just…. The heat of the moment. We both know that.”Her words land like a punch to my gut, though I can’t show it. I nod, agreeing too quickly. “Yeah. It
RACHAEL’S POVWatching the firefighters battle the flames, I couldn’t take my eyes off Jake, who was standing a few feet away. The heartbreak in his expression was devastating. Jake had other businesses, successful ones, but I knew this restaurant was different. He poured his soul into it, and spent hours here perfecting every detail. I’d always wondered why it mattered so much to him but never had the courage to ask.Instinctively, I reach out and rubbed small circles on his back, hoping to provide some comfort. I don’t say anything—I wasn’t sure there was anything I could say.The loss hit me too, deeper than I expected. This restaurant had given me something to hold on to after Jack shattered my world. It made me feel like I belonged somewhere again, like I had a purpose. I’d thrown myself into work here, brainstorming ideas, dreaming of what it could become. Watching it burn felt like losing a part of myself, as if all the progress I’d made since my divorce was going up in flames
JAKE’S POVThe past few days had been a blur of chaos. Between insurance meetings, ongoing investigations, and trying to salvage what I could from the restaurant fire, I barely had time to breathe, let alone see Rachael. I would leave the house before she woke up and return long after she was asleep. It wasn’t ideal, but it had to be done.At least I was making progress.I’d managed to acquire a significant number of shares in Crawford Oil Industries (COI), and now, I was one signature away from becoming the majority shareholder. It was a risky game, but one I couldn’t afford to lose. I just hoped the Crawfords wouldn’t catch wind of what I was doing before it was too late.Tonight is crucial. I had arranged a dinner with the last shareholder, Mrs. Raymond, a shrewd businesswoman with a reputation for playing hardball. I picked one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city—an attempt to “butter her up” before dropping the offer. If I could convince her, my plan would finally fall
JAKE’S POVInside, the lobby gleams with marble floors and crystal chandeliers, its elegance only adding to the sour taste in my mouth. At the reception desk, a woman with a practiced smile informs me Mrs. Raymond had already left instructions. I was to be sent directly to her suite.As I ride the elevator up, my stomach churns. I feel like a cheap escort being summoned to perform a duty. The thought makes me sick, but I bury the emotion deep, locking it away where it can’t touch me. I remind myself why I am here. This is business. Nothing more.The elevator chimes softly, and the doors slide open. I walk down the plush-carpeted hallway, my footsteps muffling as if the hotel itself is trying to silence my guilt. Room 912. My hand hesitates on the door handle for a brief second before I swipe the keycard and step inside.The room is dimly lit; Mrs. Raymond is already waiting for me. She is sprawled across the bed in a silk robe and red lingerie that leaves little to the imagination. He
RACHAEL'S POVI hadn’t spoken to Jake in days. Not because there wasn’t anything to say, but because I was avoiding him. Avoiding the guilt that gnawed at me every time I thought about the evidence I’d hidden. That jerrycan with the old Crawford Oil Industries logo felt like a bomb in my purse, waiting to explode. I’d been going in circles, debating what to do with it.The logical part of me knew I had to confront Jack. But the idea of calling him, of hearing his voice, twisted my stomach into knots. How would he react? Would he deny it outright? Laugh in my face? I wasn’t sure I was ready for the confrontation.When Jake’s name lit up on my phone, my heart skipped a beat. He never called me, ever. If he needed something, it was always a text or a face-to-face conversation. I hesitated for a while, but I finally answered.“Hello?”His voice was slurred, almost incomprehensible. “Rachael... I’m... I’m at the bar. Pick me up. I’m at...” he trailed off, mumbling the name of the bar befor
RACHAEL'S POVJack’s deflection had said it all. He’d danced around the question with that smug indifference that only made him look guiltier than ever. It was time to involve Jake, even though I knew how this would go. He will be furious that I hadn’t shared this with him earlier. But what choice do I have now? Better late than never, I tell myself as I pull into the driveway, already bracing for the fallout.When I step inside, the house is quiet, except for the low hum of the fridge in the kitchen. Jake is sitting on one of the bar stools, pressing an icepack against his head. He looks like hell—disheveled, pale, and haunted, like the aftermath of whatever had driven him to drink is still clinging to him.“You good?” I ask, setting my purse down on the counter, trying to ease into the conversation.Jake nods silently, not even glancing my way. He looks like the angel of death had brushed past him and left him worse for wear.“Want to talk about what made you drink like that?” I ask
JAKE’S POVAs I speed past the estate gates, my hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turn white. My blood is boiling, and no amount of deep breaths can calm me down. Rachael had betrayed me. The one person I thought I could trust. The one person I let in.I thought we were partners. I thought she had my back. “Damn it!” I slam my palm against the wheel in frustration. How could she keep something like that from me? There is only one explanation: she still loves Jack.My chest burns with a mixture of anger and pain, my head pounding not just from the betrayal but from the lingering hangover of last night. Why today, of all days, did she decide to drop this bomb on me? She couldn't have picked a worse moment.I had to leave the house before I did or said something I couldn’t take back. The anger was too raw, too consuming. The walls of that place felt suffocating. At least I still had my penthouse in the city—a sanctuary I could retreat to at a time like this.As I
RACHAEL’S POVI spend the entire day trying to reach Jake. Call after call, voicemail after voicemail, but it is no use. He wasn’t picking up. He was sulking somewhere, letting his anger simmer, and left me to drown in the silence he left behind.I paced the living room, my nerves fraying with each passing minute. Where could he be? What is he doing? My mind began to spin with the possibilities.Had he gone to the police? Was he confronting the Crawfords?The unknown gnawed at me, clawing at my insides. If Jake had gone to the police, it would be over for me. I would be arrested for tampering with evidence, and no explanation I gave would matter. I was terrified of what he might do in his anger. Jake was impulsive, and I had learned the hard way that his anger was blinding.But it was already night, and he’d been gone for hours. If the police were going to come for me, they would have done so by now. That thought offers me a sliver of comfort, but it doesn’t ease my anxiety entirely.
RACHAEL'S POVI couldn’t believe Jake had just come and gone without saying a word to me. He rushed out like he was late for something important, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sat there on the couch, staring at the ceiling, trying to process the whirlwind of the past few days. The sun was already up, and boredom crept in like an unwelcome guest.I grab my phone and begin mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. As I flip through the posts, a photo of Amy and Ethan catches my eye. They look radiant, clearly on vacation somewhere beautiful. My chest tightens. The last time I’d spoken to Amy was at the Crawford luncheon. Since then, I have avoided her. She’d tried to reach out, but I hadn’t responded. I’d been a terrible friend.Taking a deep breath, I shot her a text: "Hey, how are you?"I bury my phone under a couch cushion, resisting the urge to stare at the screen, waiting for her reply. I needed a distraction, so I grab my laptop. To my surprise, an inquiry about my marketing
JAKE'S POVWilliam’s silence surprises me as well. I expected him to fight back, deny everything or storm out. Instead, he sits there in silence, his face completely unreadable. Karen, on the other hand, is far less composed. She shoves the letter in his face, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and rage.“Did you know about this?”William exhales slowly and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Elizabeth and I agreed she was going to… take care of it. I’m not surprised she didn’t that’s all.”His words hang in the air, each one more infuriating than the last. The calm demeanor I’d been holding onto begins to crumble. My temper is rising, threatening to spill over.“Wait,” my voice low and dangerous. “You knew she was pregnant?”William doesn’t flinch, his tone is detached. “Of course, I knew but like I said, I thought she got rid of it.”That confession hits me harder than I expect, a knot tightens in my chest. For a moment, I can’t speak.“I think she kept you bec
JAKE'S POVSleep eluded me. No matter how much I tossed and turned, my thoughts kept circling back to Rachael, all alone in that big house. No matter how angry I was at her, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at my chest.I had also grown accustomed to not being entirely alone. Even though we slept in separate rooms, I always knew she was there. Her presence had become an unspoken comfort.I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 2:00 a.m. There was no way I could go back to the house at this time without startling her. I sigh, staring at the ceiling, waiting for morning, waiting for a reasonable hour to check on her.Two restless hours later, I was up again, standing under the cold spray of the shower, hoping to wash away my tangled emotions. It didn’t help. The image of her face when I walked out on her lingered, tugging at something deep inside me.Sipping my coffee, I stared at the whiteboard from yesterday and I review my notes, fine tuning my plan to keep my mind occup
RACHAEL’S POVI spend the entire day trying to reach Jake. Call after call, voicemail after voicemail, but it is no use. He wasn’t picking up. He was sulking somewhere, letting his anger simmer, and left me to drown in the silence he left behind.I paced the living room, my nerves fraying with each passing minute. Where could he be? What is he doing? My mind began to spin with the possibilities.Had he gone to the police? Was he confronting the Crawfords?The unknown gnawed at me, clawing at my insides. If Jake had gone to the police, it would be over for me. I would be arrested for tampering with evidence, and no explanation I gave would matter. I was terrified of what he might do in his anger. Jake was impulsive, and I had learned the hard way that his anger was blinding.But it was already night, and he’d been gone for hours. If the police were going to come for me, they would have done so by now. That thought offers me a sliver of comfort, but it doesn’t ease my anxiety entirely.
JAKE’S POVAs I speed past the estate gates, my hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turn white. My blood is boiling, and no amount of deep breaths can calm me down. Rachael had betrayed me. The one person I thought I could trust. The one person I let in.I thought we were partners. I thought she had my back. “Damn it!” I slam my palm against the wheel in frustration. How could she keep something like that from me? There is only one explanation: she still loves Jack.My chest burns with a mixture of anger and pain, my head pounding not just from the betrayal but from the lingering hangover of last night. Why today, of all days, did she decide to drop this bomb on me? She couldn't have picked a worse moment.I had to leave the house before I did or said something I couldn’t take back. The anger was too raw, too consuming. The walls of that place felt suffocating. At least I still had my penthouse in the city—a sanctuary I could retreat to at a time like this.As I
RACHAEL'S POVJack’s deflection had said it all. He’d danced around the question with that smug indifference that only made him look guiltier than ever. It was time to involve Jake, even though I knew how this would go. He will be furious that I hadn’t shared this with him earlier. But what choice do I have now? Better late than never, I tell myself as I pull into the driveway, already bracing for the fallout.When I step inside, the house is quiet, except for the low hum of the fridge in the kitchen. Jake is sitting on one of the bar stools, pressing an icepack against his head. He looks like hell—disheveled, pale, and haunted, like the aftermath of whatever had driven him to drink is still clinging to him.“You good?” I ask, setting my purse down on the counter, trying to ease into the conversation.Jake nods silently, not even glancing my way. He looks like the angel of death had brushed past him and left him worse for wear.“Want to talk about what made you drink like that?” I ask
RACHAEL'S POVI hadn’t spoken to Jake in days. Not because there wasn’t anything to say, but because I was avoiding him. Avoiding the guilt that gnawed at me every time I thought about the evidence I’d hidden. That jerrycan with the old Crawford Oil Industries logo felt like a bomb in my purse, waiting to explode. I’d been going in circles, debating what to do with it.The logical part of me knew I had to confront Jack. But the idea of calling him, of hearing his voice, twisted my stomach into knots. How would he react? Would he deny it outright? Laugh in my face? I wasn’t sure I was ready for the confrontation.When Jake’s name lit up on my phone, my heart skipped a beat. He never called me, ever. If he needed something, it was always a text or a face-to-face conversation. I hesitated for a while, but I finally answered.“Hello?”His voice was slurred, almost incomprehensible. “Rachael... I’m... I’m at the bar. Pick me up. I’m at...” he trailed off, mumbling the name of the bar befor
JAKE’S POVInside, the lobby gleams with marble floors and crystal chandeliers, its elegance only adding to the sour taste in my mouth. At the reception desk, a woman with a practiced smile informs me Mrs. Raymond had already left instructions. I was to be sent directly to her suite.As I ride the elevator up, my stomach churns. I feel like a cheap escort being summoned to perform a duty. The thought makes me sick, but I bury the emotion deep, locking it away where it can’t touch me. I remind myself why I am here. This is business. Nothing more.The elevator chimes softly, and the doors slide open. I walk down the plush-carpeted hallway, my footsteps muffling as if the hotel itself is trying to silence my guilt. Room 912. My hand hesitates on the door handle for a brief second before I swipe the keycard and step inside.The room is dimly lit; Mrs. Raymond is already waiting for me. She is sprawled across the bed in a silk robe and red lingerie that leaves little to the imagination. He
JAKE’S POVThe past few days had been a blur of chaos. Between insurance meetings, ongoing investigations, and trying to salvage what I could from the restaurant fire, I barely had time to breathe, let alone see Rachael. I would leave the house before she woke up and return long after she was asleep. It wasn’t ideal, but it had to be done.At least I was making progress.I’d managed to acquire a significant number of shares in Crawford Oil Industries (COI), and now, I was one signature away from becoming the majority shareholder. It was a risky game, but one I couldn’t afford to lose. I just hoped the Crawfords wouldn’t catch wind of what I was doing before it was too late.Tonight is crucial. I had arranged a dinner with the last shareholder, Mrs. Raymond, a shrewd businesswoman with a reputation for playing hardball. I picked one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city—an attempt to “butter her up” before dropping the offer. If I could convince her, my plan would finally fall