The name Jake Sim had always belonged to a world you only heard about—whispered between adults, printed in glossy magazines, spoken with a kind of distance that made it clear people like him didn’t exist in your reality.
And yet, there you were, standing inside his house. The marble floors felt too pristine beneath your shoes, the ceilings impossibly high, the silence thick enough to press against your chest. You tightened your grip on the worn recipe book in your hands—the one your mother had asked you to return.
You weren’t supposed to be noticed. But then, a voice from upstairs. “Who are you?”
Your head snapped up. There he was, leaning slightly over the railing, eyes fixed on you with sharp curiosity. Not bored. Not dismissive. Interested.
Before you could even open your mouth— “Just a maid’s child,” a servant cut in quickly, her tone clipped. “Don’t speak to her, sir.”
“I didn’t ask for her background,” he said calmly, each word precise.“I asked for her name.”
And suddenly, it was too much. Before anyone could say anything else, you turned and fled—out the door, past the gates, away from the weight of his attention.
By late afternoon, the sky softened into shades of gold and blue. The garden path stretched quietly ahead as you made your way toward the back gate, hoping to leave unnoticed this time. You kept your head down. You didn’t see him coming. The collision knocked the air from your lungs, but before you could fall, a hand caught you—firm, steady. Too close.
His grip didn’t loosen right away. His eyes searched your face, not hurriedly, not carelessly, but as if committing every detail to memory.
“You run a lot,” he murmured, a faint edge of amusement threading through his voice.
Your pulse thundered.
“I didn’t even get an answer.”
His hand shifted slightly at your side, not improper, not rough, just enough to remind you that you weren’t going anywhere. “So let’s try this again,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Who are you?”
This time, it wasn’t a demand. It was a question he genuinely wanted answered.