Prank Call Jacob Sartorius Novels & Stories

With that, I turned and stormed off, while Solana screamed furiously behind me. … After getting out of surgery, the hospital director, Julian Rappert, called me to his office and showed me a social media post that had gone viral. "Dr. Charles McCain from a prestigious hospital is a heartless fraud who only pretends to be wealthy. He plays the role of the perfect doctor in front of patients, but at night, he runs around with multiple sugar mamas! Patients should beware! Who knows what infectious diseases he might have?" The post was already trending, and the comment section was full of criticisms, insults, and curses. Someone even photoshopped my obituary and posted it in the thread.

" I had nearly worked myself to death to earn that one million dollars and more, working four jobs day in and day out, sleeping less than four hours every day. My body's condition rapidly deteriorated this year, and my weight dropped below 80 pounds. I fainted multiple times in the span of a month from low blood sugar. I was like a walking corpse instead of a proper human being, exuding an air of death wherever I went. I clutched the transaction record as I straightened to my full height. I looked up and stared at Marcus' ashen expression. "I'm going to get all my money back. My parents will also be filing a lawsuit against you for fraud. You brought all of this on yourself, Marcus."

I stared straight at the scene of the traffic accident a short distance away as I called my best friend, Sarah Harker. "I'm sorry, Dezzy. I'm away on a holiday, and I just got off the plane. I'll bring with me some local delicacies for my goddaughter once I'm back," Sarah said gleefully. She even sent me a few photographs from her vacation. By the time my secretary called, I was in no mood to listen to anything else. That bizarre phone call, spanning time and space, was still connected. The other "me" said in a scratchy voice, "Dezarae Lisbon, trust me. I've tried sending you a photograph. I hope that it can change this outcome."

Smith snorted under his breath as he pretended to be busy with the cash register. The guy chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll take a caramel macchiato. And maybe your number, if that’s on the menu?” Sophia fought the urge to roll her eyes. Seriously? She had dealt with flirty customers before, but she wasn’t in the mood for it today. She gave him a polite, practiced smile. “Sorry, but we’re all out of that today.” Jake burst out laughing, covering it up with a fake cough. The guy chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Just the macchiato, then.”

She figured that he must have wanted Tristian Reyes’s contact. Without wasting any time, Jacob typed the numbers into his phone and called Tristian. The phone rang four times before he heard a click. “Tristian Reyes speaking. How can I help you?” Tristian’s voice carried an aura like no other, and even a man like Jacob couldn’t help but tremble slightly. Jacob cleared his throat, adjusted his tie and spoke. “This is Jacob Wades from the Wades family.” He said, hoping to get some recognition with his family name.

I can't help but wonder what prompted Tyler's inquiry, wanting to understand his train of thought. Tyler falls silent, his expression thoughtful as he absorbs the information. Jake, unable to contain himself, interjects with a mixture of alarm and amusement. "Sophia, you've been scammed!" he exclaims mischievously, a mischievous grin playing at his lips. "This grand and beautiful apartment shouldn't be worth such a cheap price, let alone be located in the heart of the city." Tyler, ever the calm and rational one, interjects, "Jake, calm down. Let's not jump to conclusions. Sophia, did you investigate well before buying? It does seem too cheap for such a grand place."

I yelled out, trying to make them focus on me and not each other. Fabian pulled my arms and shielded me with his body. “Stay behind me, this son of a bitch was lurking around here, obviously plotting something evil. I'm going to call the cops and get him thrown behind bars.” Jacob suddenly broke out into a manic laughter. Low and spine chilling and shivering. “What's so funny about this situation?” I asked him, trying to act confident. But deep down, his threat over the phone repeated in my head and it kept sending chills down my spine.

My team was the only one in the company that hit its performance targets this year. At the year-end party, the boss waited until everyone else had left, then he pulled out a big red box and had the four of us in my team draw blind boxes. I drew a desktop tower caked in dust, an antique that looked like it belonged in a museum. Haley Lambert, my teammate, drew a monitor covered edge to edge in scratches. Drew Sandler got a keyboard with every letter worn clean off the keys. Gabe Carell ended up with a grease-slicked wired mouse. Our boss, Cyrus Griffin, clapped me on the shoulder, grinning drunkenly. "You young people love a blind box, right? It's all about that thrill of not knowing!

A $300 gift card had become a $15 gift box. The enormous gap seemed to crash through their brains all at once. In that deathly silence, the phone I had placed on the lectern lit up. Because it was connected to the projector, a text message appeared clearly on the large screen in front of everyone. The sender was Mr. Whitman, our company’s largest client. [Ms. Lee, I saw the video online. Our company places the highest value on integrity in our partners. For a company that tolerates employees spreading rumors and attacking their own employer, we have no choice but to reassess our cooperation.]

I deserve rest and not to be disturbed by a prank caller early on a Saturday morning. "Calm down!" It's a masculine and it sounds so cool, Oh soothing and familiar! "Who are you?" I asked, not so calm now but curious to find out who it was that called "Jake Reid" the caller said. Wait! What? Jake called me? I should just jump on the roof and scream for joy or something close. Oh wait! I'm mad at him for being arrogant and rude at the hospital the other day, I feign an annoyed and disturbed voice, I asked again "What is it?"