Chapter 161: Job

Oril

Walter just shrugged his shoulders, picking up his spatula again. "I don’t care what she does with it afterward. As long as she sees that I baked it for her myself, that’s all that matters."

I felt sick to my stomach. "I’m out," I declared, taking off my apron and tossing it onto the counter. "I am not spending another second helping you bake a peace-offering cake for a girl who wouldn’t even wave if you were on fire."

I turned to walk away, but Walter’s voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

"If you walk out right now, Oril," Walter said softly, his tone carrying a sudden, smooth threat that made the back of my neck prickle, "I’ll make sure Torin hears all about your little job hunt. I’m sure he’d love to know why a Spade is applying for entry-level assistant roles and getting rejected by mid-tier firms."

I froze. My chest tightened into a hard, suffocating knot.

You manipulative bastard, I cursed him in my head, glaring at him over my shoulder with pure hatred. He knew that was my absolute rawest nerve. If Torin found out I was getting rejected from basic jobs, the humiliation would destroy whatever dignity I had left.

"Fine," I growled out through clenched teeth, snatching the apron back up and shoving it over my head. "Fine. But when she throws it in the trash, I’m going to laugh in your face."

"Deal," Walter said pleasantly.

"Hey," Kei’s voice suddenly cut in. He set his glass down on the counter and pushed himself off the refrigerator. "If you guys are actually serious about making this dough rise... I’ll help."

I whipped my head around to stare at Kei, giving him a long, horrified, are-you-kidding-me look.

Kei completely avoided my eyes, casually stepping up to the island and grabbing a bag of sugar.

You absolute prick, I snarled silently, watching Kei carefully measure out two cups of sugar. Look at him trying to act all helpful and casual. He’s calling me a toddler two minutes ago, and now he’s rolling up his sleeves to bake a cake? He’s only doing this because his precious ’fated mate’ is involved! He wants to play the supportive pack member so he can get brownie points with Lorali too! Unbelievable. Every single guy in this house has lost his damn mind over her.

"We need to sift the flour first," Kei said, his voice quiet as he expertly took control of the bowl. "Otherwise it’s going to stay lumpy."

"Fine, whatever, master baker," I muttered, grabbing a wooden spoon and aggressively stirring the liquid mix just to vent my frustration.

For ten tense minutes, the four of us stood in the kitchen in a strange, uneasy atmosphere, Walter obsessing over the frosting recipe, Kei sifting flour, Oracle silently chewing his cereal at the end of the counter, and me muttering under my breath while trying not to set the kitchen on fire.

Then, a sudden, violent crash echoed from the top floor.

The heavy thud of a door slamming shut rattled through the ceiling, followed immediately by the loud, echoing sound of fast, furious footsteps stomping down the grand spiral staircase in the main foyer.

All four of us instantly froze. Even Oracle stopped his spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Fuck you, Torin!" Lorali’s voice screamed, echoing through the wide-open halls with enough raw, venomous fury to shatter glass.

A beat of silence passed, and then Torin’s voice carried down the hallway, low, smooth, mocking, and infuriatingly calm.

"I’ll be waiting for you to do that, sugarplum."

A loud, frustrated grunt burst from Lorali’s throat. A second later, she rounded the corner into the kitchen entry, her hair slightly disheveled, her cheeks flushed bright red with pure rage, and her brown eyes practically shooting live sparks.

She didn’t even look at Walter, Kei, or me. She didn’t look at the flour, the lumpy batter, or the ridiculous cake setup we had spent the last hour working on.

She snapped her gaze straight to the end of the counter, her eyes locking onto Oracle.

"Let’s go," she snapped, her command sharp, icy, and absolute.

Oracle didn’t hesitate for a single microsecond. ℯ

He instantly scrambled off his wooden stool, dropping his cereal spoon into the bowl with a loud, clattering splash. He didn’t ask where they were going. He didn’t ask what had happened upstairs. He just pushed past the counter, his massive frame falling into step right behind her like a loyal, obedient hound following its master.

"Lorali, wait—" Walter started, stepping forward with his hands covered in egg mix, reaching out toward her.

Lorali didn’t even turn her head. She stormed right past the kitchen island, hit the front door, and slammed it shut behind her and Oracle with a deafening BANG that vibrated through the marble floorboards.

Silence descended over the kitchen. Thick, heavy, and utterly suffocating.

I stood there, holding a flour-covered wooden spoon, my eyes wide as I stared at the closed front door. Next to me, Walter’s arm was still half-raised in the air, his face pale, his smooth composure completely shattered into a million tiny pieces. Kei was staring at the doorway with a tight, unreadable shadow crossing his features.

What the hell just happened? my brain whispered into the dead quiet room.

The cake batter sat between us on the counter, cold, lumpy, and completely forgotten until the high-pitched, insistent buzzing of my phone against the wooden counter pulled me out of the rhythmic, almost hypnotic motion of sifting flour. I wiped my hands against my apron, leaving powdery white smears on the faded fabric, and reached for the device before the ringing could cut out.

I didn’t recognize the number on the screen. Ten digits completely devoid of a contact name. My chest tightened automatically, a familiar knot of anxiety twisting right under my ribs. I hope this isn’t another job rejection.

"Hello? This is Oril," I said, trying to force my voice into a register that sounded calm, capable, and entirely unlike a guy currently standing in a flour-dusted kitchen praying his isn’t getting rejected.

"Mr. Oril? Good afternoon. My name is Sandra from Human Resources," a crisp, perfectly modulated voice chimed through the speaker. "I’m calling to follow up on your recent application. We were very impressed with your background, and I’m pleased to inform you that we’d like to offer you the position."

My brain instantly short-circuited.

Wait. Which position?

Panic and relief slammed into each other like two freight trains. Over the last few weeks, I had sent out so many resumes that my inbox looked like a graveyard of automated rejection letters. I’d applied for night-shift inventory management, data entry, front-desk reception, overnight warehouse stocking, and at least three different remote customer support roles that may or may not have been elaborate data-harvesting scams.

Does it matter which one it is? my inner voice screamed, practically doing backflips off the walls of my skull. No! A job is a job!

"That’s... that is fantastic news," I managed to say, holding my breath so she wouldn’t hear the embarrassing, ragged hitch in my breathing. "Thank you so much, Sandra. I really appreciate the opportunity."

"Wonderful! I’ll send over the formal offer letter and onboarding documents via email shortly. We’re looking forward to having you on the team."

"Thank you. I’ll keep an eye on my inbox."

The line clicked off. I stood there staring at the blank phone screen for a solid five seconds, the static of the dead call ringing in my ears while the reality of the moment washed over me. I got it. I actually got one. I didn’t care if I was going to be staring at spreadsheets until my eyes bled or hauling boxes until my back gave out, I was employed again. The suffocating weight that had been resting on my shoulders for the past month lifted just enough for me to draw in a real, deep breath.

A massive, stupid, uncontrollable grin spread across my face. I couldn’t stop it even if I tried. My cheeks practically burned from how wide I was smiling.

"Why are you looking at your phone like it just handed you a million?"

I jerked my head up. Keion was mixing something, watching me with an eyebrow raised, a wooden spoon balanced casually in his hand. Behind him, Walter was standing near the oven, wiping down the marble counter with a damp rag, his sharp eyes catching the tail end of my idiot expression.

"Oril?" Walter asked, dropping the rag onto the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. "You look like you either won the lottery or completely lost your mind. Which one is it?"

"I got a job," I blurted out. The words felt surreal coming out of my mouth, floating in the warm, vanilla-scented air of the kitchen. "I just got the call. I got hired."

For a split second, the room was completely quiet, the news lingering in the air. Then, Keion’s face lit up into a bright, wolfish grin.

"Shut up! Really?" Keion barked out a laugh, slamming his wooden spoon onto the table with enough force to make the bowl jump. "Look at you! Getting a job for real!"

"That’s amazing!" Walter beamed, his initial stern posture melting instantly as he walked over and slapped a heavy, solid hand against my shoulder. "Congratulations! You’ve been stressing over those applications for weeks. You deserve this."

"Thanks, guys," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. My cheeks felt hot. "Honestly, I was starting to think my resume was going straight into everyone’s trash folders."

"Nonsense," Walter said smoothly, stepping back toward the center island where our main project was sitting. "This calls for a proper celebration. In fact, since we’re currently baking, I decree that we dedicate half of this cake, brownies or whatever this comes out as to you."

Now that is stupid.