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I take a deep breath, slowly letting it out through my mouth, as I try to come up with a way to rectify this mess I just made.
When her best friend, Jasmine, called me earlier tonight to come over to the club, I didn’t expect to seeMischiefin the state that I had seen her.
She was drunk and dancing with and rocking some silly guy who had his hands all over her body.
The moment I saw them, I saw red, I so badly wanted to punch that guy, beat him to a pulp drag him across the room, and then toss him in a dumpster because that’s where he belongs. And I would have been stopped if I hadn’t been stopped.
I’ve always prided myself in never losing my cool, I’m always in control of my emotions, but tonight I lost my cool because ofMischief, and I know it’s bound to happen again. Who am I kidding? I love her. I love her so much it’s scary.
Not wanting to go to bed knowing that she’s still pissed at me, this unresolved tension has stretched for far too long, we need tobring this matter to a rest. I walk over to her bedroom door and knock, hoping that she will open up and we can talk about it.
Hoping for a receptive response, I stand at her door, a silent anticipation enveloping me. The echoes of my knocks linger in the quiet hallway.
“Mischief, please can we just talk about this?”
I can hear her sniffling as she walks over to the door. She’s still crying and it breaks me. As the door creaks open, a dim light reveals the tear-streaked trails on her cheeks, witnessing her in this vulnerable state, still caught in the grip of sorrow, sends a sharp pang through my chest.
“Kyle, please do me a favor and leave me alone. I don’t want to see or speak to you, so please just leave me alone!”
The weight of her words settles over the space between us, a barrier reinforced by the unspoken pain in her eyes. It's a plea I hadn't anticipated, and it lands with a somber finality.
The ache in her voice reverberates, leaving me torn between the urge to respect her request and the longing to heal the fractures that have marred our relationship.
I so badly want to get her to forgive and speak to me but I know that I have to give her what she wants. So, I don’t push, instead, I go back to my bedroom, pack a few things in one of my duffle bags, and leave the penthouse.
On my way to my car, I call Jake to ask if I can spend the night over at his place. He picks up on the first ring.
“Hey man, what’s up?” He sounds breathless like he was exercising or something.
“Hey, are you all, right? You sound breathless. Are you exercising?”
“Yeah, sort of, what’s up?”
“I need to crash at your place tonight.” I open the back door of my Mercedes and place my bag inside. My driver already retiredfor the day, and I don’t bother calling him, because I need to clear my head while I’m driving myself.
“What happened, did Jewel finally kick you out for being a jerk?”
“Not exactly, can I come to your place or not?”
I can go to one of the hotels owned by Anderson Corp, or any other hotel, but I don’t want to do that, I have a feeling my father is having me watched, and is only a matter of time before one of his minions will find out that I’m in staying in a hotel and then take the report to him.
If my father catches wind of the informationMischiefand I not being on good terms, he would start sticking his nose in my business and I don’t want to deal with him.
“Yeah, you can come over, but so you know, my place isn’t cheap,” Jake says.
I chuckle, as I get behind the wheel. “I will see you soon.”
Jake’s penthouse is only a few minutes’ drive away from mine. Except for Emily who lives with her parents in Brooklyn, the rest of us live close to each other in Manhattan.
When I get to Jake’s house, he’s standing by the front door, with a bathroom robe hanging loosely around his shoulders, holding a bottle of vodka and two glasses.
“My man, welcome home to Daddy,” he says laughing with his arms spread wide open. I ignore his teasing as I get out my bag and walk past him into the house.
“You look like you really need this,” he says following me from behind. I place my bag on the floor and take a seat on one of the plush couches in his large living room.
Among the four of us, Jake is the most extravagant. He’s extravagant about everything, from his cars to his clothes, Jake would never be caught in anything that isn’t designer, and limited edition.
Even the designs in his living room are extravagant. I remember when he got to this place, he made sure all the furniture was imported from Turkey and custom-made, just for him.
