Chapter 4 - chapter 4

DON'T GO 😭😭😔😔

A story that talks about her hidden darkness 🕳️🕳️

Chapter 4

CATHY P.O.V

"Hi pretty, mind if I offer you a ride home?" Frank asked with an easy smile, his voice carrying that playful yet sincere tone.

I was exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally. The day had drained me completely, and the thought of squeezing myself into another crowded bus almost made me cry. So without thinking too much, I nodded. "Sure… thank you," I said softly.

His face lit up immediately as he gestured for me to follow. He led me down into the underground parking lot where rows of cars rested quietly under the dim light. When we reached his car, he hurried to open the door for me.

"Hop in," he said politely.

Grateful, I slid into the passenger seat, the soft leather welcoming my tired body. Within moments, the engine purred to life, and Frank drove us out of the lot. The silence between us was comfortable, almost soothing after such a chaotic day. For once, I felt a little at peace as the city lights blurred past.

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JASPER P.O.V

From the backseat of my car, I caught sight of her—my secretary—walking beside that idiot. My blood immediately boiled. My eyes narrowed as I watched Frank open the door for her, and she… she actually got in.

"Who's he?" I asked, my voice sharp, venom laced between each word.

My driver glanced into the mirror before answering cautiously, "He's Frank, sir. An employee in your company."

My fists clenched tightly at the name. That useless man, daring to walk with her, daring to touch what didn't belong to him. Rage pulsed through me like fire.

"I want him fired," I said coldly, my jaw tightening.

The driver hesitated only for a second before replying, "Okay, sir."

I leaned back into the seat, but there was no comfort. My chest tightened, my mind restless. Why did it feel like betrayal? Why did seeing her with another man feel like a knife carving deep into me? She was just my secretary… wasn't she?

But the image of her smiling faintly at him, trusting him enough to get into his car—it wouldn't leave my head. It haunted me, it consumed me. And with every second that passed, the jealousy clawed deeper.

"Drive," I ordered harshly, and the car pulled away into the night, but no matter how far we went, my thoughts stayed chained to Cathy.

CATHY P.O.V

The car hummed softly as Frank drove through the quieter streets, headlights carving gentle paths through the darkness. Conversation flowed easily between us—small things at first, then deeper—family, childhood memories, the ridiculous things that had happened to us at past jobs. He listened like he cared, leaning in when I spoke, laughing in the right places. For the first time that week, the tight knot of anxiety in my chest loosened a little.

There was something warm in the way he treated me: respectful, kind, unhurried. He didn't look at me like I was a project or an oddity; he looked at me like a person. And that felt… rare. I found myself smiling without thinking, telling him things I might never have told a stranger on a bus. He told me about his little brother who loved football and about how he'd learned to keep his temper when life kept throwing curveballs at him. I told him about my mother's laugh, and how stubborn I could be when I promised myself something.

Little by little, the tiredness that had been dragging my feet all day began to fade. There was an ease between us that soothed my soul, and for a moment I let myself imagine what it would be like to have someone on my side—not just a boss, not just coworkers—but someone who chose to be with me.

Still, as the city lights blurred past and Frank's voice grew softer in the background, a small echo of unease lingered in my chest—an unnamed gap I could not place. He was kind, yes. He was gentle, yes. But something inside me whispered that there were other storms ahead, other forces I did not yet understand.

When we reached my building, Frank parked under the dull glow of the streetlamp and turned to me with that easy, hopeful smile. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered, more honestly than I had in days. "Thank you—really."

He walked me to the entrance, opening the door like a gentleman. "We'll do lunch again, then?" he asked, hopeful.

"Sure," I said, tucking my hands into my bag like they were small treasures. "I'd like that."

As I climbed the stairs to my apartment, I felt a small flicker of something new—comfort, maybe, or the first seed of trust. I slept that night with the soft echo of Frank's laugh in my mind and a cautious, fragile hope in my heart.

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CECILIA P.O.V

Since that morning my chest had been a storm—uneasy, seething, restless. The sight of that black girl had lodged in my head like a splinter. How dare she look so composed after the whole scene? How dare she breathe the same air as Jasper? I, Cecilia Delacroix, daughter of one of California's wealthiest men, refused to share anything that belonged to me—especially not a man heaped with power and money and the kind of presence everyone bowed to.

I paced the length of my lavish bedroom, silk brushing my calves with every furious step. The walls were tastefully adorned with art from some private gallery, but today none of it calmed my blood. I picked up my phone with hands that trembled—not from fear but from a rage that needed action. I'd learned to get what I wanted. I'd learned to move pieces on a board until the board looked exactly like I intended. This woman had to be removed.

I called my ally at the company—a man who owed me favors and understood the invisible games of power. "Monitor her for me," I said, my voice low and sharp, leaving no room for questions.

"Okay, ma," he answered. The word satisfied me like honey.

I paused, thinking. I did not want merely to watch; I wanted a solution. "Frank," I continued, the name spitting out like it was already dirty, "do more than monitor. Make sure she stays away from my man. If you can get her fired—do it. I want her out of his life and out of his company."

The line clicked with obedient compliance. I felt a little thrill—a dark, sweet promise that my instructions would be carried out. I ended the call and flung myself onto the chaise, staring at the ceiling as if the plaster might give me answers.

"No one can ever have my man," I whispered to the empty room, and the words tasted like an oath. The house was silent for a heartbeat, then the sound of footsteps approached as the maids entered to attend to my demands. Their timid eyes darted to mine, immediately aware that their employer was wound tight and dangerous.

"You there!" I snapped, voice ringing like a whip. "What is taking so long? Do you not hear me?" I swept up a crystal paperweight from the desk in a sudden flare of temper and hurled it in the direction of a tray, the shards clinking sharply as they hit the marble. The maids shrank back, faces pale.

"Get lost!" I barked, stamping my foot so the world would understand I was not to be trifled with. They fled, trembling, their skirts whispering like ghosts as they hustled from the room.

Left alone, I stood at the window and watched the city below—tiny, helpless without the power that fed it. I pressed my palm to the cold glass, feeling for some small solidity in a life that demanded perfection. My mind returned to that girl's face—calm, stubborn, untouched by the armor of wealth. The thought made my chest tighten.

I would not be undermined. I would not be outshone by someone with no pedigree, no name, no claim. Jasper belonged to a world I had been groomed for; he was mine by arrangement and influence. I would plant the seeds of her ruin if I had to, watch them grow till the only thing left of her was a memory I could step on.

And if anyone dared stop me—if anyone dared suggest I step back from what was rightfully mine—I would remind them who I was. I would remind them that Cecilia Delacroix never lost.

JASPER P.O.V

The sun was already blazing through the high glass windows of my office, bouncing off the polished mahogany desk in front of me. I sat there, pretending to focus on the files laid out neatly before me, but my mind was restless. The truth? I wasn't reading a single word. My thoughts kept drifting—to her.

Cathy.

There was something about her presence that disturbed me in ways I wasn't used to. Normally, no woman lingered in my mind this long. They came, they went, and I never thought twice. But Cathy—she was different. The innocence in her eyes, the fire in her tone when she dared to stand up to me, even the way she bit her lip nervously when I stared too long—it was like she was carved to undo me.

And then there was Frank. That irritating excuse of a man. The image of him leading Cathy to his car last night replayed in my mind over and over, stabbing at me like a knife. Who did he think he was? Driving her home, talking to her, making her laugh? My blood boiled. She wasn't his. She wasn't supposed to be anyone's.

I slammed my palm on the desk, the sound echoing in the room. Enough was enough.

I picked up the phone and dialed. "Bring in my PA," I commanded, keeping my voice calm though my insides screamed with fury.

"Okay, sir," Cathy's voice replied, sweet and soft through the receiver. The way she said those two words disarmed me instantly. God, her voice. It had the ability to melt the frost I'd built around my heart for years. For a moment, I almost forgot my anger, but I quickly shook it off. I couldn't afford to lose control. Not now.

A few minutes later, James entered. He was dressed casually as usual—dark jeans, a neat shirt, his usual smug grin plastered across his face. He didn't need to act professional around me. James was more than just a PA—he had been with me since childhood, my driver, my right hand, my brother in all but blood. But he had the annoying habit of always poking where he shouldn't.

"Hi, buddy," James greeted, walking in with that easy confidence of his.

I gave him a cold glance. "Hey, James. I want Frank fired. I don't want to see his face in this company again. Also, cancel all of today's meetings. I'll be visiting the family house later."

James leaned against the desk, folding his arms with that infuriating grin. "Alright, sir," he said, emphasizing the 'sir' like he was mocking me.

"Good. Then you can go." I leaned back in my chair, maintaining a professional tone.

James tilted his head, pretending to be wounded. "Wow, chasing me out already? Cold. Real cold, Jasper."

"Yes," I replied flatly. "Because I'm your boss."

James chuckled, shaking his head. "Boss, huh? You've changed. But I know what this is about." He narrowed his eyes playfully. "You're not really upset about Frank, are you? You're upset because of Cathy."

At the sound of her name, my chest tightened, but I didn't answer. Silence was safer than denial.

James smirked knowingly. "I'll take that silence as a yes. You're falling in love with Ms. Cathy."

My eyes snapped up, narrowing dangerously. I fixed him with the kind of glare that had board members trembling during billion-dollar negotiations. "Leave, James. Now."

But instead of being afraid, he burst into uncontrollable laughter. "Oh man, this is rich! Jasper, the ice king himself, melting over his secretary. Who would've thought?"

I didn't move. I just kept staring, letting my silence speak louder than words.

Realizing he was pushing too far, James raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll go. But admit it, you care about her. And that, my friend, is new territory for you."

Before I could respond, he dashed toward the door, still laughing like a child who had just stolen candy.

When the door finally closed, silence returned to the office. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, leaning back into my chair.

Was James right? Was I really falling for Cathy?

I rubbed my temples, fighting the thought. Love was a weakness I couldn't afford. My life was complicated enough—Cecilia, the family pressure, the business empire, the enemies waiting to see me stumble. And yet, the more I denied it, the stronger the pull toward Cathy became.

Her smile haunted me. Her innocence intrigued me. And the fire in her eyes—God, that fire—ignited something deep in me I didn't know existed.

But one thing was clear.

Cathy wasn't just another woman. She was becoming the woman.

And I wasn't sure I had the strength to fight it anymore.

JAMES POV

Walking through the busy halls of the company, I noticed how peaceful Miss Cathy looked at her desk. She was so calm, focused, and elegant in the way she worked—it made her stand out from the rest of the staff who often looked stressed and rushed. For a moment, I wanted to stop by and say something to her, maybe even crack a joke. But I stopped myself. Cathy wasn't just any worker—she was Jasper's secretary. And Jasper, my psycho bestie, had eyes sharper than an eagle when it came to her. I wasn't about to put myself in that line of fire.

Shaking off the thought, I continued with my duty for the day. I had a task to complete. With the resignation letter in my hand, I made my way toward Frank's desk. The office felt tense the moment I arrived; everyone had already heard whispers of what was about to happen.

"Hi, Mr. Frank," I greeted, trying to sound professional.

"Good morning, sir," he replied politely, though I could see the nervousness in his eyes.

"Take this," I said firmly, handing him the letter.

He glanced at the envelope before looking back at me, confused. "What's this?"

"Your resignation letter, of course. You are to vacate this premises in ten minutes," I said, putting on the hardest face I could manage.

Frank's mouth fell open, his face pale. "But sir… what's my offense? What did I do wrong?" His voice cracked, and I could see his eyes glossing with tears.

I sighed inwardly but didn't let it show. "I don't know. Just get out," I replied coldly, then turned and walked away. My heart ached slightly, and I almost regretted it. Almost. But orders were orders, and when Jasper gave an instruction, I couldn't ignore it.

As I walked off, I still felt a small pinch of pity for the man. He looked completely broken. But there was nothing I could do—my loyalty had always been to Jasper. After finishing with Frank, I tucked the matter aside and went on to prepare Jasper's car for his trip later.

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FRANK POV

The resignation letter shook in my hand as I sat at my desk. My colleagues avoided my gaze, pretending to be busy. My whole world came crashing down in that single moment. No explanation. No warning. Just "get out."

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed Cecilia's number. If anyone could help, it was her.

"Good morning, ma'am," I said, my voice almost breaking.

"What is it this time?" Cecilia's sharp voice cut through the line.

"Do you need money?" she asked, her tone irritated as if she already knew I was going to beg.

"No, ma'am. I'm here to inform you that I've been sacked from Amazon Company," I said weakly, gripping the phone tighter.

"What??" she yelled, her voice full of rage. And then—silence. She disconnected the call.

I froze, staring at the blank screen. That was it? No sympathy, no help? Just anger and abandonment?

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "I guess this is how the rich behave. They don't care about anyone but themselves," I muttered.

Feeling utterly defeated, I gathered my things and walked out of the building, my chest heavy. I climbed into my car and drove aimlessly until I found myself parked outside a dim bar on the edge of town.

Inside, the smell of alcohol and smoke wrapped around me like a blanket. I ordered the strongest drink they had, hoping the burn of the liquor would numb the pain in my chest. Maybe, just maybe, the glass would silence the humiliation. But deep down, I knew no drink could wash away the bitterness of being used and thrown away.

JAMES POV

At Mr. Jasper's office, I stood outside his heavy oak door and knocked twice. "Knock, knock," I said, my knuckles rapping against the polished wood.

"Come in," his deep voice called from the inside.

I stepped in. Jasper was leaning back in his chair, his sharp eyes staring at his computer screen, but his mind was clearly somewhere else.

"Your car is ready," I informed him.

"Okay. I'll be out in some minutes. Also, tell Cathy to go home," he said, his tone casual but firm.

"Okay," I replied immediately, turning to leave.

I walked down to Cathy's desk. She was seated neatly as always, typing on her computer, her face glowing under the office lights. The way she worked, so calm and respectful, always amazed me.

"Good morning, Mr. James," she greeted me with so much respect, her voice soft but full of warmth.

"Morning," I said, offering her a small smile.

"Mr. Jasper wants you to go home," I told her.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "But why? It's too early," she asked, looking genuinely confused.

"I don't know, but you can go," I replied, already stepping away.

"Okay… thanks so much," she said, and I could instantly hear the excitement bubbling in her voice despite her confusion.

Before I could walk back, I heard my name echo through the hall like thunder. "James!!!" It was him—the most evil bestie ever.

"I'm coming!" I called back, shaking my head with a small grin before heading back to his office.

Jasper was already standing, his suit jacket draped perfectly over his shoulders. He didn't say a word, just signed with his hand for me to follow. Without another glance, we both headed toward the underground parking lot, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the walls as we descended together.

Watch out for chapter 5

To be continued...🥹

KÃRMZY 💋💋❤️‍🩹