Fifteen years. Fifteen long, frozen years since the day Callum Jay watched the woman he loved collapse into his arms, blood soaking through her pale gown. Since her body vanished like mist in the night. Since he stopped believing in closure.
Now, his name echoed through boardrooms, on screens, in sharp headlines. Callum Jay, CEO of Jay Enterprises. A man carved out of ice and iron. He sat behind his glass desk, surrounded by the cold elegance of his penthouse office. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, but he never looked at it.
The office was spotless. Not a photo, not a flower, not even a framed award. Nothing to hint at the man behind the power.
"Mr. Callum, they're ready for you," Lola said gently, peeking her head into the office.
Callum didn't look up. He straightened his already straight tie and rose without a word. His black suit was flawless, every line pressed with precision. His shoes didn't make a sound on the polished floor.
Lola followed behind, her heart thumping.
She'd worked with him for nearly 17 years. Memorized his moods, anticipated his movements, even learned his silence. There were days he spoke only three words. But she stayed. Not just because he paid generously, but because she cared. Deeply.
Even now, watching the way his jaw tightened as the elevator doors opened, she wanted to reach out and touch his hand. But she never dared.
The boardroom was full. Suits lined the sleek black table, murmurs died the moment Callum stepped in.
He took the head seat, opened his folder, and without glancing up, said, "Let's begin."
The meeting was brutal.
A merger proposal sat on the table. The competing firm's rep, a middle-aged man with thinning hair, tried to argue his case. Callum listened in silence, eyes unreadable.
Then he struck. Calmly, efficiently, like a surgeon slicing into soft tissue.
"Your numbers are inflated. Your market share is sinking. And your executive team is bleeding talent," Callum said, flipping a page.
The rep sputtered. "With respect, Mr. Callum, our strategy…"
"...is desperate. I won't invest in desperation. Meeting over," Callum pronounced.
The man opened his mouth again, then shut it. He gathered his papers, humiliated.
As the others filtered out, Eleanor Vance stayed behind.
"Callum," she said smoothly, walking over. Her heels clicked gently against the marble.
He didn't look up. "Yes, Eleanor?"
"That was impressive. You command a room without raising your voice." Her smile was soft, seductive. Her blouse was a little more open today. "I think we'd make a good team on the Asia expansion. I'd love to work more closely with you."
Callum finally looked at her. His stare was cold, piercing.
"We already have a team for that. And I don't do 'close' with anyone."
Her smile faltered.
"Of course," she said, backing off. "I'll see you at the quarterly dinner."
Callum turned away.
Back in the elevator, Lola stood beside him, holding a tablet.
"You were sharp today," she offered, softly. "Even for you."
"He wasted my time," Callum replied.
Lola hesitated. "Do you... ever think you'll slow down? Maybe... take a step back?"
His eyes flicked to her. For a second, just a breath, she thought he might say something real.
"No." The doors opened.
Back in his office, he removed his jacket, hung it perfectly.
"Clear the rest of my day."
"But you have a call with…."
"Clear it." Lola paused. "Okay."
He walked to the window. For the first time in years, he looked out. The city pulsed with life, a million stories below. But his eyes weren't seeing any of it.
"Fifteen years today," he said quietly.
Lola didn't speak. She just stood there, waiting.
"She wasn't supposed to die," he whispered. "We were supposed to travel. Start a family. I bought a house for her. She never saw it."
Lola swallowed the lump in her throat. "I know."
He turned. "They called it a robbery. But nothing was taken. No ransom, just Liora."
"You never talk about her," Lola said gently.
"Because when I do, I see her dying all over again."
He walked to his desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out something wrapped in cloth.
He unwrapped it slowly. A pale scarf.
Lola's breath hitched. "I found this on the morgue floor the day she disappeared. It wasn't hers. But it smelled like her. And it was warm."
He stared at it. His hand trembled. "I never believed she died."
Lola stepped closer. "Callum... maybe it's time to let go."
"No," he said sharply, his eyes suddenly fierce. "I never got answers. She vanished. Corpses don't vanish. Someone took her. And I will find out who."
Lola took a shaky breath. "You've spent millions... the best investigators, psychics, underground contacts. You've ruined your own peace."
"Then I'll ruin more," he said. "I'd burn this whole empire down if it meant one clue. One trace of her."
She wanted to say something else. But there was nothing left to say.
Callum's phone buzzed. He picked it up.
His face changed. "What is it?" Lola asked.
He slowly put the phone down. His fingers twitched.
"An anomaly in the morgue security logs from fifteen years ago just came through. Some old footage got decrypted."
Lola frowned, confused. "That can't be. Those files were corrupted, we couldn't access them back then."
Callum didn't blink. His gaze pierced through her.
"Apparently not anymore."
He turned the laptop toward her, playing grainy footage. Liora's body… then a shadow. A flicker. Movement.
"She wasn't alone in that morgue," he said, voice low, trembling with something deeper than fear. "I checked the locks myself. Nothing was broken. Nothing touched."
He stepped back, fingers curling. "I'm starting to believe something... supernatural happened that night."
The laptop screen froze. A pale silhouette stood behind Liora's body, blurry, watching.
Lola gasped. Then the screen glitched.
Callum whispered, "This wasn't a robbery. Something darker was at play... and it never really left."