Jenny stood stock-still, her eyes fixed on Saben as his words hung in the air between them. Just… trust me.The words echoed in her mind, a promise and a mystery. What did he mean by that? She had only known him for a few months, and yet, here she was standing alone with him in his mansion, surrounded by his family, all of them staring at her with varying degrees of interest and expectation.Her heart thudded, a strange mix of excitement and fear churning in her chest. She wanted to take a step back, to retreat, but the force of his presence was magnetic. His eyes held hers, steady, calm, almost too steady. His lips were barely open, as if he was waiting for her to say something, do something.But what was there to say? What could she say?"I… don't understand," she whispered, her voice trembling.Saben took a step closer, the space between them shrinking. "I know you don't. But you will, Jenny. It's just a matter of time."Jenny swallowed, her mind whirling. What is he asking of me?
The huge doors of the Thompson estate swung open before Jenny had even a chance to knock. A butler in a sharp black suit stood rigid, bowing with practiced efficiency."Miss White. Welcome to the Thompson residence. Mr. Thompson is expecting you."Jenny's pulse skipped. She managed a courteous nod, her own voice too small to reply. Passing through the door, she was immediately enveloped in opulence: shining marble floors that reflected under crystal chandeliers, walls covered with oil paintings, and heavy carpets so thick her heels appeared to drop into them. The air was filled with a delicate mixture of lilies and old wood, the unmistakable perfume of money and heritage. What am I doing here?Her grip shook her clutch as she trailed behind the butler through a broad hallway. Each ring of her footsteps sounded too brash, each step reminding her that she was not in a world such as this. She had grown up in a small house, lived as an adult in tiny apartments far from the luxury about h
By morning, she had slept little. Her alarm blared at six, waking her to another day. She went through her small apartment in a daze, making coffee, spreading butter on toast, not quite savoring either.Throughout, her mind spun in circles.What is he hoping I will wear? Formal? Casual? What if I make a fool of myself?She was so caught up in her spiral that she didn't feel her phone vibrating until the third vibration."Hello?" she replied, voice thick with sleep."Jenny, you sound like you haven't slept at all," Zina's sharp, motherly voice cut through the line.Jenny rubbed her eyes. "Because I haven't.""I figured," Zina replied, sighing. "So, you received the invitation?"Jenny paused. "Yes. Yesterday night.""And you're freaking out."“I’m not panicking,” Jenny insisted, pacing her living room. “I’m… overthinking.”Zina chuckled knowingly. “Which is your version of panicking.”Jenny bit her lip. “Zina, what if he has some hidden motive? What if this isn’t about dinner at all? Pe
Jenny sat poised at her tiny kitchen table, the sound of the wall clock ticking out the quiet of her apartment. She had finished just ending her phone call with Zina, shaken by the enormity of having to recount everything that had gone down at the party. She had thought the night's mayhem was done with—until the phone vibrated in her hand once more.Her breath caught when she read the name.Saben Thompson.Her boss.She paused, gazing at the screen as though it were some kind of bizarre dream. Why would he be phoning her so late? With shaking fingers, she eventually answered."Hello, sir?" she whispered, being careful with her tone."Jenny," Saben's voice was deep and calm, nearly impassive. "I'd like you to join me for dinner tomorrow evening. At the Thompson estate. Seven o'clock sharp. I'll send a car around for you."Jenny blinked in shock, holding on to the table edge. "D-Dinner? Your estate?" she echoed, nearly stuttering."Yes." No hesitation, no explanation—only dictate. "I'll
The sun poured warmly in through the high glass windows of the Thompson estate dining room, its golden light illuminating the long mahogany table. The aroma of freshly baked bread, crackling bacon, and freshly ground coffee filled the air, blending with the faint hint of rose scent from the gardens immediately beyond.The vaulted ceilings and chandelier full of crystals in the dining hall were meant to be impressive. Within these walls, however, the breakfast power play was less about the meal itself and more about rank.Saben sat in the distance, attitude sharp but with a hint of fatigue from the previous night's congress. His phone vibrated quietly in his pocket, a message from one of his directors, but he let it go unread. Family breakfast was not something one shrugged off easily, particularly when Wendy Taylor, his great-grandmother, was in charge.At the table head, Wendy's statuesque form presided. In her nineties, she still exuded authority. Her hawk-like eyes were piercing, m
Jenny adjusted the strap of her bag as she stepped into the sleek glass doors of Zina Bank’s corporate office the next morning. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and the faint sound of keyboards clicking filled the air. Despite her carefully pressed blazer and the calm expression she forced on her face, inside she was anything but steady. Last night's business congress replayed in her mind.JM with Eva, the pain of seeing him, the shock of what he'd said, and the way she'd almost fallen if not for the firm hand of Saben.She took a deep breath and pushed her shoulders back, going into Zina Hale's office. Zina, her best friend and co-worker, was already sitting at her desk, her red lipstick glaring against the pale light streaming in from the blinds. She raised an eyebrow knowingly, looking up."Jenny White," Zina replied, reclining in her chair. "You look like you didn't sleep last night at all. Don't tell me the wine last night struck you so hard."Jenny let out a tired little laugh