novelraw Chapter 88: Being An Anchor
Chapter 88: Being An Anchor
Jake stood in his office at the Apex Plaza, watching the late afternoon shadows stretch across the city. The digital clock on his desk flickered to 16:00. His first instinct was to call Catharine and see if she wanted to grab an early dinner, but then he remembered the empty spot in his private garage. She had the RS 6 today, navigating the sharks at Johnson & Associates with six hundred horsepower at her disposal.
He didn’t want to go back to the Zenith alone. The silence there was starting to feel heavy. Instead, his mind drifted back to the image of Aliya curled in a ball on her bed. She was drowning in that room, surrounded by the ghosts of her own secrets. She needed air.
He pulled out his phone and dialed her. She picked up after the fourth ring.
"Hello?" Her voice was thick, the unmistakable rasp of someone who had spent the last several hours crying.
"Get up," Jake said, his voice firm but devoid of any sharp edges. "Put on something nice. I’m taking you out."
"Out? Jake, I don’t... I can’t."
"You can. We’re going shopping, and then we’re having dinner. Somewhere with a view."
There was a long pause. He could hear her shifting under the duvet. "Jake, have you seen the time? It’s four in the afternoon. Most of the boutiques will be closing by the time we even get there."
Jake allowed a small, tired smile to tug at the corner of his mouth. "Then I’ll just have to buy the mall and tell them to stay open late for us, won’t I?"
He said it as a joke, a bit of the old sibling banter they used to share before the world got complicated. Aliya let out a weak, breathy scoff—the first hint of a laugh he’d heard from her in days.
"You’re ridiculous," she muttered. "Stop watching so many movies. Just because you have a nice car doesn’t mean you own the city."
"We’ll see," Jake replied, though his mind drifted to his latest portfolio summary. Between the Meridian dividends and the liquidity move Samuel had just finalized, the idea of actually buying the Diamond Plaza wasn’t just a movie trope anymore—it was a math problem he could be able to solve soon.
"Fine," Aliya sighed, her voice still sounding fragile. "I’ll get ready. Just... don’t be late."
"One hour," Jake said.
Before leaving the office, he sent a quick text to Catharine.
> Taking Aliya out for some fresh air and shopping. She needs to get out of the house. I’ll call you when I’m heading back to the Zenith.
Catharine responded almost instantly.
> That’s a great idea. She needs her big brother right now. Give her a hug for me. Love you.
---
Jake made a quick stop at the Zenith. He needed to shed the "CEO" skin. He took a lightning-fast shower, washing away the grit of the day, and changed into a pair of dark designer jeans and a crisp, black polo. He looked less like a corporate raider and more like the successful older brother Aliya used to look up to.
He pulled into his parents’ driveway at exactly 17:00. The black Audi R8 looked almost alien parked in front of the modest, middle-class home, its sleek lines catching the orange hue of the setting sun.
Inside, the house smelled of ginger tea and floor wax. His mother met him in the hallway, pulling him into a brief, tight hug.
"She’s in the bathroom finishing up," his mother whispered, her eyes searching his. "Is she really okay, Jake? She looks so pale."
"She’s just stressed, Mom," Jake lied, the words tasting like ash. "A little retail therapy and a good meal will fix her right up. Don’t worry about us tonight."
His father walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. He gave Jake a nod of approval. "Good to see you taking care of your sister, son. Just don’t let her spend your whole paycheck in one go."
"I think I can handle it, Dad," Jake said with a wink.
A moment later, Aliya emerged. She had put on a light floral dress and a bit of makeup to hide the redness around her eyes, but she still looked small. Vulnerable. When she saw Jake standing there, she gave him a tentative smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready," she whispered.
As they walked out to the car, Jake opened the passenger door for her. The neighborhood kids were staring at the R8 from across the street, but Jake didn’t notice them. His focus was entirely on the girl sitting beside him, the one person in the world who didn’t care about his "Eye" or his billions—the one person he was determined to protect, even if it meant burning down everything Alex Livingston held dear.
"Where are we going first?" Aliya asked as the engine roared to life.
"Wherever you want," Jake said, shifting the car into gear. "The night is yours."
---
The Diamond Plaza was beginning to glow under its evening lights as the R8 pulled into the VIP parking. Aliya stepped out, squinting at the glass facade of the high-end boutiques. She still looked a bit frail, but the sheer bustle of the mall seemed to pull her out of her head for a moment.
"First stop," Jake said, gesturing toward a sleek, minimalist storefront. "Pick something that doesn’t look like it came from a ’Depressed Teenager’ starter pack."
Aliya rolled her eyes, a genuine spark of irritation—the healthy kind—flickering in her gaze. "I’m twenty-two, Jake. And for your information, oversized hoodies are a lifestyle choice."
As they walked through the first store, Jake picked up a neon-orange trench coat. He held it up against his chest with a straight face. "What do you think? It says ’I have eight billion marks and I’m not afraid to be a safety hazard.’"
Aliya actually snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. "It says you’re trying to be a traffic cone. Please put that back before the fashion police arrest us both."
By the third store, the heavy silence that had followed them from the house had completely evaporated. Aliya was now the one leading the way, pulling various shirts and jackets off the racks and holding them up to Jake with a critical eye.
"You know, for a billionaire, your personal style is surprisingly ’divorced dad at a Sunday braai,’" she teased, tossing a high-end leather jacket at him. "Try this. It’s more ’I own a tech empire’ and less ’I buy my clothes at the gas station.’"
"I’ll have you know these jeans cost more than your first car," Jake defended, though he was grinning as he headed for the fitting room.
"Which proves that money can’t buy taste, big brother," she called out after him.
By the time they reached the fifth store, Aliya’s arms were full of bags, and the redness in her eyes had been replaced by the bright, sharp energy Jake remembered. She was laughing at his attempts to pull off a designer fedora and even started picking out jewelry for herself, debating between two necklaces with the kind of intense focus that made the tragedy of the morning feel miles away.
---
They ended the evening at a rooftop restaurant overlooking the Aurelia skyline- Sky-Lounge. The city lights stretched out beneath them like a carpet of fallen stars.
Jake watched her across the table as she dug into a plate of grilled king prawns, her movements fluid and relaxed. The banter hadn’t stopped since they left the mall.
"So," Aliya said, pointing a fork at him. "When are you actually buying this mall? Because the service in that shoe store was a bit slow. I expect a formal complaint to the new owner by Monday."
Jake laughed, leaning back in his chair. "I’ll get my people on it. I’ll make sure there’s a gold-plated statue of you in the fountain."
"Make it platinum. Gold is so... last year," she quipped, then took a sip of her sparkling water. Her expression softened for a second, the humor fading into something more sincere. "Thanks, Jake. Seriously. I didn’t think I could... you know. Feel normal today."
Jake reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "You don’t have to be ’normal’ all the time, Aliya. But you’re never going to be alone in this. Not as long as I’m breathing."
Aliya nodded, a small, genuine smile touching her lips. "I know. Now, stop being sentimental. It’s ruining your ’cold-hearted trader’ vibe. Are you going to finish those fries, or should I take them?"
"Take them, you vulture," Jake muttered, sliding the plate toward her.
As he watched her eat, the cold, calculating part of his mind—the part that had been planning Alex’s downfall—settled into a quiet, lethal simmer. Seeing her like this, hearing her laugh again, confirmed one thing for him: he would do whatever it took to keep this smile on her face.
The "Eye" wasn’t just for trading gold anymore. It was for protecting the only gold that mattered.
"Anyway," Aliya said, her mouth half-full. "We need to talk about that shirt you bought. It’s a crime against humanity, Jake. Truly."
"It’s vintage!"
"It’s a mistake," she countered.
Jake just shook his head, a feeling of profound relief washing over him. The storm wasn’t over—not by a long shot—but for tonight, the wall was holding. He had his sister back.
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