THE RISE OF JAKE MILLER

chapter twelve

Chapter twelve.

Sanito rushed into the café, slightly out of breath.

“Sorry for coming late,” he said, extending his hand toward Jack.

Jack smiled as he shook it, then pushed back his chair to stand.

Sanito raised his brow.

“You’re leaving already?”

Jack gave a short chuckle. “I’ve got an emergency.”

“Come on, man,” Sanito protested, shaking his head. “I just got here. At least give me ten minutes.”

Jack glanced at his watch, then sighed. “Sorry, I really have to go. I’ll see you another time.”

Sanito exhaled, shrugged, and finally nodded.

Jack bid Sanito farewell and stepped outside. For the briefest second, his eyes caught a woman in dark sunglasses watching him.

He frowned but shook it off, hailing a cab and heading home. When he arrived, surprise flickered across his face, a sleek black GLE was parked right in front of his house. Jack smirked, curious. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

A young man stepped out of the car and walked toward him.

“You must be Mr. Jack,” the man said.

Jack nodded, still confused.The stranger bowed slightly.

“Hello, young master.”

Jack instinctively took a step back. “What?”

Unfazed, the man pressed on.

“Your attention is needed at the Lotex Group. Mr. Black asked me to bring you.”

Jack gave a small nod. “Alright, let’s go.”

The man hesitated, his eyes flicking over Jack’s outfit.

“You… want to go like this?”

Jack glanced down at himself, gray pants, white shirt, nothing unusual. He arched his brow.

“Yeah. Why? Anything wrong?”

The man’s lips parted as if to speak, but he quickly shut them, lowering his gaze. “Nothing, sir.” He opened the car door instead.

Jack slid into the seat, his curiosity growing with every mile they drove.

When they reached the Lotex Group headquarters, the building loomed tall and imposing, its glass walls catching the night lights. Inside, a man in a tailored black suit was waiting at the entrance. His presence commanded the room instantly.

“Mr. Jack,” he said, stepping forward with a wide grin that showed perfect teeth. “Welcome to Lotex Company.”

He extended his hand. Jack shook it, his expression unreadable.

As they walked deeper into the building, employees stopped to stare. Their eyes lingered on Jack with barely concealed contempt, whispers passed between them, sneers flickered across faces.

Jack noticed every glance, every curled lip. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. If only they knew, he thought. I’m not here as a guest. I’m their new master.

Inside the grand conference hall, a long table stretched across the room, already filled with executives.

The air was filled with perfume, cologne, and barely hidden arrogance. Mr. Black gestured to a chair at the head of the table.

“Please, have a seat.”

Jack didn’t move immediately. He let his gaze sweep across the room, noting the quick flashes of annoyance on the faces of those present.

“Who's this?” One of them asked.

Before Mr Black could respond, he heard his name.

“Mr. Black,” Jack said suddenly.

Mr. Black turned to him. Jack tilted his head toward the door. Mr Black understood immediately.

Brows furrowed around the table, but Mr. Black obeyed, following him into the hallway.

Once the door closed behind them, Jack folded his arms

“I don’t want a board meeting.”

Mr. Black blinked, clearly thrown off.

“Why not?”

Jack’s gaze hardened.

“Because before I listen to anyone argue or flatter themselves in there, I want to see the company’s records. Every detail.”

“We can handle that later,” Mr. Black replied carefully, trying to maintain control.

Jack shook his head sharply.

“No. I want to see them now.”

Silence stretched between them. For the first time, Mr. Black hesitated, his polished composure cracking ever so slightly. Then he gave a stiff nod.

“Very well.”

He led Jack down the corridor, past portraits of former executives and shelves of awards. They stopped before a door.

“This,” Mr. Black said, pushing it open, “is your office. Your predecessor’s space. And now… yours.”

Jack stepped inside slowly, his eyes sweeping over the room, mahogany desk, shelves lined with leather-bound files, the faint scent of old cigars lingering in the air.

He smirked faintly. “Good. Then let’s start here.”

Mr. Black placed the stack of records on the desk.

“Everything you need to know is in here,” he said.

Jack gave a short nod, pulled one of the files closer, and began flipping through the pages carefully. The more he read, the deeper his frown grew. Finally, he set the file down and shook his head, disappointment written all over his face.

“You’re running at a loss,” Jack said firmly.

“Sir, the business has just been bad lately,” Mr. Black replied, his voice uneasy.

Jack’s eyes narrowed. He tapped the page with his finger, his tone sharp.

“No. This isn’t because of bad business. The losses are coming from inside this company.” His voice dripped with disgust.

“I don’t think so,” Mr. Black argued quickly, his tone defensive.

Jack’s eyes snapped up from the file, cold and unflinching. He leaned forward, pressing his hand firmly on the open pages.

“See,” he said, his voice low but sharp. “The numbers don’t lie. Someone inside this company is bleeding it dry, and I intend to find out who.”

Mr. Black was stunned. How could someone so young see through the numbers so quickly? He had never even considered that the real problem might come from within the company itself.

After a long pause, he finally asked, “What do you intend to do?”

Jack leaned forward, a sly glint in his eyes.

“Announce to them,” he said calmly, “that I’m the new cleaner.”

Mr. Black’s eyes widened in shock.

“Wh… what?”

Jack chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

“You heard me. Just do as you’re told.”