I Was Sent Into A Shitty Urban Novel

Jason stepped through the front door of his estate and was immediately greeted by silence.

The place felt unusually still. No faint footsteps, no distant humming. Just the low hum of the air conditioning. He slipped off his shoes and glanced toward the second floor.

"She must still be hiding in her room," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He changed into a pair of shorts and a tank, grabbed a water bottle and towel, and stepped out the back. The air was crisp, the evening sun casting long shadows over the six-building property. As he stood on the patio, he let his eyes drift from structure to structure, memories settling into place like puzzle pieces.

To the left was the security quarters—a modest but heavily fortified building where his guards lived. To the right, the storage facility: boats, jet skis, even a few collector cars sat idle inside. Just beyond it, a natural lake reflected the late sunlight. One building housed the estate staff, another was a quiet retreat lodge meant for meditation or study.

And directly in front of him?

The gym.

With a groan, Jason jogged over, swiped his keycard, and stepped inside.

Two hours later, he staggered out, shirt clinging to him with sweat, arms shaking.

"I’m never working out with those lunatics again," he grunted. His security guards, particularly Tyrone and Brax, had pushed him beyond what he thought was reasonable. "They treat chest day like a full-contact sport."

Jason stepped outside the gym for a moment, catching his breath. The sun had dipped lower, casting a golden-orange hue across the estate. His skin prickled with sweat as a breeze passed over him, cooling him just enough to keep standing. From where he stood, he could see Daisy’s window light was off. Probably still hiding. He shook his head, took a swig of water, and wiped his forehead with the towel.