Chapter 7

"Remember what I told you, Jacob. Don't get too carried away with Mayce, and end up overlooking the bigger problem," Jameson said, cloning a Mona Lisa as he warned.

There was more to discuss, but then again, some things were better left unsaid.

Holding a clenched fist at his back, Jacob said, "I won't, father. I'll handle everything as planned."

Jameson nodded and as fast as Jacob could, he exited his office. He didn't miss the flutter of Nicole's fingers as she waved and mouthed a goodbye his way. She had appeared too triumphant, and he grew livid. The game they were playing was a toxic one that wouldn't end well, but he didn't enjoy losing. Jacob had earned a point after their night together, but this moment of weakness had just closed the gap and made them even.

Not for long. He planned to change that soon.

"Violet!" He said, as he approached the front desk.

"Sir?"

"Inform Envoy's team that I would see them now."

"B-but it's not even up to an hour yet?" She asked, sounding like someone with a severe case of whiplash.

He threw her a staid gaze, and Violet had shivered underneath it.

"I'll prepare the conference room in ten minutes."

Jacob moved away, but stopped in his tracks just as soon.

"While you're at it, find me a bottle of water. Would ya?"

There was no way he would return to his office, not for any reason. Jacob had told himself.

Violet disappeared behind a service door for a few seconds and resurfaced. He received the bottle and thanked her with a small smile, moving on.

Mayce wasn't the only thing he was back in New York for. His father knew nothing. Zion Castle was his least of problems.

Jacob knew the meeting would take his mind off things, but as he took a gulp, the water cooled off the packed steam in his chest. He felt freed. Jacob didn't know if it was something about the floor, but he wanted to be anywhere else but there.

Another swig from the bottle, and he desired an escape. Breathing the same air as Nicole had affected him. He went through the same passageway and headed for the elevator he had arrived with. Once inside, he pushed for the ground floor. What he needed now was a five-minute walk away from the building, and from everyone else.

His thoughts were on a rollercoaster ride he couldn't control. He tried taking in deep breaths, but any minute from now, he knew he was going to fall. Jacob had realised then that he never truly healed from her betrayal.

A loud ping came, and everything stopped. The doors slid open on the tenth floor.

The distraction had saved him from his head. A suit clad man, nose deep into a file, stepped in.

Jacob paused.

The man in question had bags under his eyes, but he wasn't lacking sleep, not at all. He looked like an alcoholic, the kind that would drink to run from his problems. His stale skin had given that away.

Jacob still studied him closely. His clean fade haircut signalled he was fresh out of a salon. There were a few hair strands dusting over the nape of his undershirt. He appeared like someone's failed attempt to create prim and proper.

Jacob wrinkled his nose at what the man had done next. His hand traveled down to his crotch and scratched his member without care. The man then wet a finger on the same hand with his spit and flipped a page in the other hand.

"Ahem!"

The man faltered, eyes flashing like a blowtorch. Recognition set in. It turned out that he knew who Jacob was. He began fumbling with an apology, and his behaviour had sparked suspicion.

Jacob put his hands in his pockets and faced him point blank.

"What's that in your hand?"

He had almost laughed when he looked. The man's hands were shaking like an epileptic.

Jacob could tell that he didn't belong here. This man was an imposter with a carefree gait, donned in a suit that was larger than his lean size, and had naked feet inside dress shoes.

But that wasn't just it.

The elevator he used at present wasn't open for the public or employees. Only Mayce's executive personnel had access to it.

Jacob glanced at his ID and smiled to himself. It read that he was an analyst from the accounts section.

The man said, "This i-is Mayce lab's general ledger."

Jacob hated liars like demons hated light, and this man was a damned liar.

He had a hunch that he was on to something. The death grip the man had on the file gave him up. He wouldn't leave without reading what was on those pages. Not a chance in hell.

He stepped forward, and the man stepped back.

Jacob repeated the action and stopped again. This time, the sinister smile on his face widened. "What is your name?"

"Jackson Craig," the man said.

He had answered the name on his ID, but it wasn't difficult to figure out that it was the fake.

"Good. But here's what is going to happen," Jacob said, upping his brows and playing dangerously with his right cufflink.

There was a beat of silence within the box that stretched like a taut wire on its way to snap.

Nodding, the man gulped, and Jacob went for the kill switch on the other side immediately. He pushed down on it and the elevator stopped moving.

Eyes wide like saucers, fear gripped the man by the neck. He hadn't seen it coming.

Jacob flexed his wrist and said, "It's two-thirty. You have a minute to tell me your real name and what is inside that file."

Out of the blue, the man tipped his chin. "Or else."

His sudden confidence had caught Jacob off guard, but he didn't fall back.

Jacob's voice was dangerous as he said, "Easy, I'd make sure you don't make it out of here alive."