Chapter 72:
Fred’s jaw dropped. “Forty million?!” The phone slipped from his hands and hit the floor.
He stood there, stunned. That was half of Dury Group’s working capital for the year. How could he possibly explain this to his family?
A thought struck him. He turned toward the elevator and slammed his palm against the button. “Rylie! Rylie! Come out here and explain yourself! Tell me who you really are! Say something—”
Before he could get another word out, two bodyguards yanked him back and tossed him out the front door. Casper followed right behind, both men thrown out together like trash.
Alistair stepped out of the building and glanced down at the two men on the pavement. “Mr. Dury, your reputation as a womanizer is known all over Crolens. Do you actually believe that deal was yours because of merit? If Mr. Felix Owen hadn’t held affection for his younger sister—who already had a childhood engagement with you—you wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near this project.” His lip curled as he continued. “And yet, you had the nerve to cancel the engagement with Miss Kirk? You had everything handed to you, and you threw it away. That’s not bold. That’s just stupid.”
Fred’s vision blurred. A wave of heat rose in his chest. He coughed, spat out blood, and collapsed on the ground.
Casper stood frozen, speechless from the blow.
Meanwhile, Rylie stepped onto the tenth floor and followed the secretary down the hallway toward Deandre’s office. Just then, a side door flew open. A striking woman with tight curls and a sharp outfit stepped into the hallway, her face clouded with irritation.
She removed her sunglasses, snatched the secretary by the arm, and snapped, “I’ve been sitting here for three hours. Where’s Deandre? Why won’t he see me?” The secretary ducked her head. “Miss Johnson, please try not to make things difficult. Mr. Owen is still tied up. It might be better to return another day.”
“I just talked to Paola. She told me Deandre isn’t meeting with anyone important today,” said Fiona Johnson, folding her arms. “So should I believe you or his cousin?”
1Ɫ∆ŦE$† ₡Ḥ∆₱†€₤S 1₦ gɑl𝑛οvєlѕ.сo𝓂
“You can call Mr. Owen yourself if you like,” the secretary answered politely. Fiona’s gaze darted to Rylie. She studied her face, her posture, her poise—and felt her stomach drop. “Who is she? What is she doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” said the secretary softly. “That’s confidential.”
Hearing that, Fiona jumped to conclusions, assuming that Deandre had found someone new so soon after breaking up with her. Her eyes reddened with frustration. Rylie noticed the emotion on Fiona’s face but didn’t slow her pace. She walked right past her and entered the CEO’s office.
Shaken and uneasy, Fiona immediately called Paola. “He’s refusing to meet with me. Could you please talk to him for me?”
Paola took a moment before answering. “That’s not something I can do. If Deandre doesn’t want to meet, no one can change his mind. If he’s made up his mind, you’ll just have to accept it.”
“How am I supposed to accept this?” Fiona’s voice rose. “I just watched a young woman walk into his office!”
Paola’s tone grew more impatient. “Fiona, Deandre is rarely home. He’s been surrounded by beautiful women all year long. You should’ve known this could happen when you got involved with someone like him.”
.
.
.