Chapter 2 The Ghost Returns

Avery's POV

I adjusted the black lace mask over my face as i stepped into the bar, my father beside me. The place reeked of wealth, sin, and desperation,a sanctuary for men like Raymond Highborn, who still clung to power despite having lost everything.

Ten years.

It's been ten years since the fire that had stolen Miles from me. Ten years since my life took a different turn. Ten years since I had become a ghost of myself.

The police had concluded it was an accident, but rumors still spreads that my father and uncle were involved in the fire that erupted at the warehouse that night . I can't let go of the pain I felt that night, but it was nothing compared to the torment I had endured at my father's hand.

I was no longer the naive girl who cried herself to sleep over a love stolen too soon. No, I have shed that skin long ago. Now, I am a phantom, a whisper in the shadows, a woman no one recognized yet feared.

And tonight, I have a role to play.

"Try not to embarrass me," Raymond muttered under his breath as we walked past velvet booths filled with politicians, businessmen, and criminals who gambled away their legacies in secret.

"You speak as though I have a choice"; I said, my voice quite and calm.

"I thought we've talked this through; put yourself together and make sure you don't fuck things up; Raymond said, his mouth close to my ear's

I had become a pawn in his game of deceit, forced to sacrifice my dignity and self-respect for his gain.

I smirked. "I never do. Even though, I felt a part of me dying inside."

We were led past the main lounge to a private chamber at the back of the bar, where the real games took place. The air inside was thick with cigar smoke and deception.

A long poker table sat in the center, its occupants already seated. Among them was a man who made me freeze in place.

Jerry Drummond.

The name struck me like a physical blow.

Drummond?.

I swallowed hard, my mind instantly flashing back to Miles,his laughter, the way his arms felt around me, the way he died screaming behind a wall of fire.

I had spent years trying to bury that night, but the past had a cruel way of resurrecting itself.

Raymond must have sensed my hesitation because his grip on my elbow tightened.

"Go keep Jerry company," he murmured, his voice smooth but firm. "Do your job."

I inhaled sharply, pushing the memories away. I knew what was expected of me,play my part, make him drink, make him gamble, and let my father take everything from him.

So, I put on a deceptive smile and walked toward Jerry, swaying my hips just enough to draw his attention.

He looked up, his eyes locking into mine, and immediately, I felt a pang of guilt, but I had to do what I came for.

"Mind if I join you?"i purred, sliding into the seat beside him.

Jerry looked at me, eyes already glassy from the whiskey in his glass. He was handsome in a rugged, careless way, his suit slightly rumpled, his tie loosened like he had already accepted the night's inevitable downfall.

"That depends," he said, offering me a grin. "Are you my good luck charm or my curse?"

I smiled, fingers trailing along the rim of his glass before gently pushing it closer to him.

"Why don't you find out?"

It happened exactly as planned.

Jerry drank.

Jerry played.

And Jerry lost.

Raymond sat across from him, his expression calm and calculating as he raked in every last chip.

By the time the game ended, Jerry slumped in his chair, his head spinning from both the alcohol and his monumental loss.

The room emptied soon after, the guards paid off, their silence bought like everything else in this world.

I and my father left without looking back.

-

The Next Evening

I sat on the leather couch in the living room, flipping through channels with bored disinterest.

I had learned to keep my emotions buried deep, but last night had left me unsettled. Jerry Drummond. That name. That family.

I had wanted to ask him if he had a brother. If he had ever heard of Miles. If he had any memories of the boy who once meant everything to me.

But I hadn't.

Because ghosts don't ask questions.

They haunt.

The soft hum of the television filled the silence. I barely paid attention to the screen,until a familiar name caught my attention .

BREAKING NEWS: Businessman Jerry Drummond Found Dead in Tragic Suicide.

The image of Jerry's face flashed across the screen, the words beneath it making my blood turn to ice.

Drowned himself in a pool after suffering a devastating loss to a woman known only as 'Ghost' and her much older companion.

The remote slipped from my fingers, crashing onto the floor.

I turned slowly, my pulse hammering against my ribs.

My father sat in the armchair across from me, watching the news with mild interest.

No remorse.

No sadness.

Nothing.

Just another game. Another pawn removed from the board.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to grab the television and throw it across the room. I wanted to shake my father until he felt something,until he admitted that this was wrong, that what we had done had led to a man's death.

But I knew better.

Raymond Highborn had lost everything,his wealth, his influence,but he had never lost his cruelty.

"Surprised?" he asked finally, tilting his head toward me.

My hands curled into fists.

At that moment, my hatred for him grew worse.

"Are you?" I shot back, my voice sharp.

Raymond sighed, rubbing his temple as if my reaction was more of an inconvenience than a concern.

"Jerry was weak. You and I both knew it the moment we saw him," he said casually, like he was discussing the weather. "You played your part. He played his. And now he's out of the game."

Immediately, my stomach churned.

"You don't even care, do you?" I whispered. Someone just lost his life because of our actions;

Raymond leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers.

"Tell me something, Avery." His voice was low, steady, dangerous. "Did you care when you sat beside him? When you laughed at his jokes? When you poured him another drink?"

I flinched.

Because he was right.

I had played my part.

I had smiled, I had flirted, I had watched him lose everything.

And now he was dead.

I forced myself to look away, blinking rapidly as the news replayed the footage of Jerry's lifeless body being pulled from the pool.

"You always knew what this life meant," Raymond continued, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. "Survival, Avery. We do what we must to survive."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my fingers digging into my thighs.

Survival.

That was all I had done for the past ten years.

But for the first time,I wasn't sure if I was surviving or slowly turning into something unrecognizable.

Raymond stood, stretching lazily before heading toward the kitchen. "We'll be out again tomorrow. A new game, new players. Don't overthink this."

I couldn't move.

My eyes remained glued to the screen, to the headline flashing at the bottom.

Ghost Wins. Jerry Drummond Loses His Life.

I spent years plotting my revenge against my father.

But as I sat there, suffocated by the weight of another man's death, I began to wonder-

Have I become exactly like my father?