This chapter is titled switch because there's gonna be a switch in POV between Emily and Ike

Also, kindly remember Emily calls Ike, Daniel.
So don't get it twisted

Emily POV

"Hello sir," I answer on the last ring, not wanting him to feel like he has authority over me, though deep down I know he does, regardless of how I strive to deny it.

"Hello Emily," his fatherly voice responds which to others may seem comforting, but I know better, that is why goosebumps trail my skin. "How are you?"

"I'm fine sir," I retort, hence it's what I'm permitted to call him, not even by his political rank or real name. "And you?"

"I don't have time to answer that," he growls sternly. "From my voice, you should know I'm healthy."

*From my voice you should know I'm healthy* I mimic, thankful his old self is on the other side of the country and not here to see me make a mockery of him.

"You are supposed to apologize!" He bellows, and I stretch my arm to distant the device and reduce the sound of his exclaim, thereby helping to prevent ear damage.

"I'm sorry sir," I do as told, wiping the lather from my left palm on the black biker short I'm rocking.

"Sorry for yourself!" He shouts, and I restrain myself from asking why he always has to be loud, I mean for his age he should be resting and not jumping from one state to another or throwing commands at people half his age.

"Thank you, sir," I let out, pushing the pink curtain that falls from the roof of the princess-style bed so I can sit my toned ass down. I hold in my laugh at my response thus the comeback appears funny to me.

"Good," he speaks, clearing his throat before continuing. "How did it go?"

"How did what go?" I taunt, deriving pleasure in pulling his feet.

"Quit playing with me Emily, I'm older than your father," he proclaims trying to display some amount of authority.

"Again, my apologies sir," I convey, releasing a breath in irritation.

"How did it go with Ana?" He implores, coming off as tough.

"It went fine," I respond, my fingers gliding through the cotton brown sheets that encase the high, soft mattress that looks welcoming and sleep inviting.

"I need details young woman," he dictates.

"The plan worked, she got convinced and has offered me her forgiveness," I explain, sighing.

"That's good," he affirms. "You know what to do next."

"Yes," I mumble, my nails meeting with my unkempt hair. "I'll need to get on her good side."

"Goodbye," he voices, and before I can note what's happening the line goes dead.

I don't think much about it and instead, relax on the bed going over the instructions he gave in my head. On the other hand, I can't argue with him because I know his commands are for my good.

In his way, this is how he looks out for me, and I know I need to do this, I need to obey them. This is the only way to be at peace with myself, so I have to go through with it.

Rising from the mattress, I shift the curtain once again and alight, sliding my toes back into the brown house-slippers that are the same shade as the nail polish I'm wearing, I cross the gold marble floor.

I attain at the blue basket where I dump my dirty clothes and fish the remaining ones out, the first set already washed and hanged. I was returning from doing that when I heard my phone ring.

Clasping the samples of undies, dresses, and other used pieces of clothing in the crook of my arm, I amble to the bathroom where my washing spree is taking place and press them into the bucket containing water and detergent.

I know you must be shocked at how a stuck-up bitch like me is doing my own washing rather than take it to the dry cleaners. That's because living with Ike for a while has shown me that no one can manage your clothes better than yourself.

Yes, he washes his garments himself, hangs them, and does the ironing too. Somehow I got infected with that syndrome and gradually before I could stop it, began doing it too.

The only difference between Ike and I is that he attends to his clothes every day while I might let my outfits pack for weeks on end till I bring out the time to clean them.

Pondering on that fact now, I see that's another reason why he and Ana are compatible hence she carries the same habit as him. Sighing at the thought, I return to the pink-painted room and turn on the TV fixed on the wall beside a painting of me and a black/white realistic drawing of me, both at either side of the gadget.

After the DSTV decoder boots, I switch the current news channel to Hiptv where Understand by Omah Lay is displaying.

A forlorn feeling sets in as I think of the task given to me by that old man. The truth is I feel remorse for the bad I've done to her while at the same time I have a desire for re—

My thoughts get scattered as loud knock jeers me. Stilling for a moment, I wonder who will come looking for me. Daniel hasn't spoken to me in a week and I have chosen not to be the one to reach out.

It comes again and this time more pronounced with an indiscernible voice. Dropping the remote on the mattress, I wander to the entrance of my room and push it open, heading straight to the door. I peep through the hole and discover who it is, unlocking it to snatch it open.

*******

Ike's POV

"Emily!" I pound at the door, my tone high as anger rushes through me. I haven't been at peace ever since Ana hinted that Emily has been stalking her.

"Emily!" I scream, knocking harder, the force of my fists shaking the door in its hinges. I notice a shadow peek from the corner and I whirl to sight a little fair-skinned kid, a teddy bear the same size as he clutched in his arm, his round eyes adorable and fearful.

As I'm about to say something nice to him, a female runs to his position and channels me a hard stare as if I aim to harm the child. I don't shift my gaze as we hold it for a moment, her expression turning to one admiration as she takes in my good looks.

I lift a brow to indicate I caught the sign in her eyes, prompting her to eye me, curl her lips to the side, changing it into a sneer, captures the child's hand, and hisses as she drags him away from the scene.

"Emily!" I holler, chuckling at the event, my rage melting to mere impatience as I rap steadily at the entrance. "I know you are in there!"

That's the truth, she's home, hence the vision of her car in the compound and her pink slides below me proves that premonition.

A minute later, I heed footsteps stride to the door from the other side, then silence. Another sound follows suit, this time the peephole is shifted and her eyes point directly at me, retreating afterward, the noise of locks clanging before the bulletproof red door is being snatched open.

"You could have broken it," she snorts, stretching her palm in a motion that shows permission to enter.

"You came a minute earlier," I retort, passing her, and she shuts the door behind me.

"As if you would do that," she rolls her eyes, observing my dress code of red sweatpants that I stole some time ago from Ana's wardrobe and a large paint design vest.

"You haven't seen me at my worst," I state, peeling off my leather sandals.

"Anyway, why are you here Daniel?" She questions, hitting the nail on the head as she faces me in a typical female troublesome stance her hands on her hips as she taps her feet incessantly. "We both know you ain't here for chitchat, you never are."

"Why have you been creeping Ana out?" I poll, snaking my fingers into the dark hair on my head.

"What do you mean by that?" She counters, gawking at me in confusion.

"Don't do that," I warn, copying her stance but cocking my head to the side so I can stare down at her, her feet continuing the action of patting the handmade carpet.

"Was that what she told you?" She asks, biting the inside of her cheek.

"She didn't exactly put it that way, she didn't even tell me in the first place, I simply read between the lines," I clarify.

"So you ain't even sure," she cackles, cleaning her wet fingers on the shorts she's donning.

"I am, because I know for a fact what you can do," I retort. "Why are you following her around?"

"I wanted to say some things to her that's all," she informs in a shrug.

"Things like what?" I implore, not understanding the game she's playing.

"If you must know, I went to seek her forgiveness," she tells.

I ogle her for a moment, not sure of what I heard, when I note her serious outlook I can't control my emotions, I burst out laughing, humor raking through me as I bend in fits of chuckles.

"Stop being a joker Emily," I instruct, my words breaking in between.

"Who said anything about joking?" She folds her arms as she asks. "That's what I wanted to tell her."

"We both know you are lying, so cut the act," I call her bullshit, seeing through the facade she's trying to keep up.

"For once in my life Daniel, I'm sincere," she communicates in a sigh. "I know I've never behaved well and I realize it now. I can't take back what I did, but at least I can ask for forgiveness which is what I'm doing."

"Ha!" I scoff in disbelief, gaping at her in astonishment. "I knew you would make a great actress Emily."

"You don't believe me do you?" She queries.

"Are you asking me that?" I laugh. "We both understand the game you are playing my darling, so don't think for a moment that you can fool me."

"You realize I'm not one to pretend right?" She interrogates, taking a step towards me. "That's because I fear no one."

"I acknowledge that, which is why I'm surprised at your antics this time," I notify in bafflement.

"Good," she nods, continuing. "So if I was up to something do you think I would go through the stress of pretending?"

"I don't know what to think anymore," I confess.

"I knew it," she smirks. "Then why stress yourself? I've informed you I'm not faking it, for once Daniel, believe in me."

"The one time I did, you made a fool of me, I won't go down that part again," I declare not caving in. The devil is wicked, but Emily is ruthless.

"Haven't you heard about second chances? Or forgive and forget?" She interviews, hiding her surprise at my response.

"Yes, rather I won't think to test that theory on you," I beam signaling her to allow me to pass.

"Instead Ana did, didn't she? She gave you and me a second shot," she blurts.

"I know," I smile thinking of her. "But I'm not Ana."

The multiple switch in POV was to help you understand what's going on

I hope it did?

Don't forget to tap that little star at the left end of your screen. Thank you😊

Freshy❤