private investigator
1015 Words
Audrey’s POV
Yesterday’s ball? A complete success.
I somehow managed to convince a good number of the investors to put their money into Mom’s fashion company. It felt like something finally went right.
But even with all the wins, my mind kept drifting back to him—my mystery man.
Under normal circumstances, I knew a guy like that wouldn’t even glance in my direction. I’ve always seen myself as painfully average—nothing about me screamed eye-catching. But the delusional part of me? Oh, she was living her best life, replaying his stare like it was a favorite movie scene.
I’m not the type to get all mushy over a guy, but this one? He wasn’t like the others. There was something dangerous in the way he looked at me—like I was a secret he was dying to unwrap. That lustful, intense stare? It should’ve creeped me out. But it didn’t. It made me feel seen. Wanted. Which… is rare.
I tried to shake him off. Scroll through i********:, stalk random TikToks, even checked LinkedIn (don’t judge me). But the man was a ghost. Not even a whisper of his existence online.
So… I did something I never thought I’d do.
I hired a private investigator.
No shame. Just curiosity. Okay, maybe a little thirst.
But before I could drown in thoughts of him again, I had a meeting scheduled—with one of Dad’s old business partners.
---
Jackson’s POV
I sat in my office, cigarette smoldering between my fingers, completely ignoring the mountain of paperwork on my desk.
All I could think about was her.
I kept checking my phone like some lovesick i***t. No calls. No texts. Nothing.
When it finally did ring, it was Blake.
Figures.
“What is it?” I asked, already annoyed.
“We’ve got a problem,” he said. “Caught a spy lurking outside your house. He’s in the dungeon.”
I sat up straighter. Finally, something to distract me. But even on the way there, sitting in the backseat of my car, my eyes kept flicking to the phone.
Why hadn’t she called?
I glanced at Bruno, my driver—married for 30 years, wise as hell.
“Bruno, be honest with me. How do you know if a girl’s into you?”
He smiled softly. “Does she look truly happy when you’re around?”
That question hit me harder than I expected.
Maybe she didn’t like me after all.
---
Back at the Mansion – Dungeon Level
I stepped into the dim cell and stared down the so-called “spy.”
“Who sent you?” I asked, expecting the name of a rival family. Or maybe even my mother.
He hesitated. “A woman, sir.”
My eyebrow raised.
“She got a name?”
He gulped. “Miss Audrey Gomez.”
My heart skipped. “Audrey sent you?”
“Yes, sir. She… she wanted to know more about you.”
“…and?”
“She also asked for… um… hot pictures of you.”
Blake actually choked.
I smirked. “Really?”
“Yes, sir.”
Well, well, well. The kitten did find me attractive. Good to know.
“Let him go,” I said, suddenly in a much better mood.
Two hours later, we handed him a curated file—just enough to feed her curiosity. Photos, hobbies, public business info. Nothing illegal, obviously. I had secrets to keep.
---
Audrey’s POV
It took longer than I expected, but the file finally hit my inbox.
I pounced on it like a starved lion.
Turns out, Mr. Mystery Man wasn’t just a dream with cheekbones—he was the real deal. He owned a legit company, liked basketball and soccer, had a stepdad, and—get this—was an only child too.
I wanted to know everything. His favorite coffee. Whether he slept shirtless. What kind of music he listened to while working out.
Sure, I could’ve called him and asked him out. But I’m old-school. I believed a guy like him should make the first move. And judging by the way he looked at me… I didn’t think I’d be waiting long.
Before I could spiral further, my phone buzzed—a call from the board. Great.
---
At the Office – Board Room
I sat across from a circle of suits and tried not to scream.
Mr. Martin, my dad’s old associate, handed me a document in silence.
I read it. Then read it again.
Apparently, according to my father’s will, I had to be married to retain my CEO position.
Fake. Total crap. But I had no proof.
Mr. Martin finally broke the silence. “If you aren’t married within the week, you’ll be replaced.”
The room emptied. I stayed seated. Frozen. Alone.
I had seven days to find a husband. Tears blurred my vision.
I reached into my pocket for my phone to call Jennie and scream—but something else fell out.
A black business card.
His card.
Jackson Rodriguez.
I wiped my tears. I wasn’t done yet.
---
I drove straight to the address from the investigator’s file. His office was sleek, intimidating, and surprisingly absent of women.
His secretary—a young guy with glasses and zero interest in my charm—barely looked up.
“Hi, I’m here to see Jackson Rodriguez.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but—”
“Sorry. No appointment, no meeting.”
I begged. I tried everything short of sobbing on the floor. Nothing worked.
Until I saw it—a ladder. And an open window.
---
Three minutes later, I was climbing up like a lunatic in heels, praying I wouldn’t break an ankle.
I slid in through the window and marched through the halls like I belonged there. After asking around under the guise of “I have a meeting,” I found his office.
I knocked.
“Come in,” came the deep voice from inside.
And just like that, the game officially began.
- Writer
