Confrontation

Chapter Seven

Eleanor's POV

"I'm sorry, but you have to book an appointment before seeing Mr. Harrington."

The secretary stepped slightly in front of the office door, blocking our way as she gave us an apologetic smile that didn't seem particularly sincere.

"This is a matter of urgency," Julian said, his voice dropping into a calm but unmistakably threatening tone. Both hands remained tucked casually inside his pockets as he looked at her. "If you don't want to lose your job, I suggest you let us in."

The woman's expression immediately changed.

She looked at him, then at me, before slowly letting out a breath through her nose. There was a clear look of disapproval in her eyes, almost as though she couldn't believe someone had just threatened her so casually in the middle of her workplace.

"I'll have to speak with him first," she muttered.

"Then do that."

Julian didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. There was something about the way he carried himself that made people listen to him even when he barely said anything. He had walked into the building with the kind of confidence that made it seem as though he belonged there, and perhaps that was why the secretary had stopped arguing with him.

She turned around and disappeared through the door.

I stood beside Julian, watching her from a distance while my fingers absentmindedly played with the strap of my handbag.

"You really enjoy intimidating people, don't you?" I whispered.

He glanced at me, the corner of his mouth lifting.

"Only when they make things difficult."

The secretary returned a few moments later.

"He said you can come in."

"Thank you," Julian replied smoothly.

He opened the door and stepped aside, allowing me to walk in before him.

The office was nothing like the reception area downstairs. It was spacious without being unnecessarily extravagant, with large windows stretching across the far wall and giving a breathtaking view of the city below.

The afternoon sun poured through the glass, settling softly over the dark wooden furniture and the polished floor. A large desk sat toward the back of the room, surrounded by shelves filled with neatly arranged files, books and a few expensive-looking decorations that gave the entire place an air of quiet authority.

My eyes barely had time to take everything in before they landed on the furniture.

Mr. Harrington stood near the windows with his back toward us, seemingly lost in the view of the city. From that height, the buildings looked almost insignificant, stretching endlessly into the distance beneath the afternoon sky.

Perhaps he had no idea that he might not be standing in that office for much longer. Probably once we are done with him and his company.

He turned at the sound of our footsteps. The surprise on his face was immediate, like his secretary didn't tell him we were the ones coming in?

"Julian?"

He walked toward us with a smile, extending his hand.

"I'm shocked to see you here."

Julian shook his hand, his expression remaining pleasant.

"Likewise, Mr. Harrington."

There was something about the way the older man looked at him that made me wonder. Perhaps this was one of the reasons my father had wanted Julian and me together.

Julian knew how to move around people like this. He knew how to speak to them without appearing intimidated, how to maintain a pleasant expression while making it clear that he wasn't someone they could easily push around.

I, on the other hand, had spent most of my life trying to stay away from people like them.

I didn't bother standing around any longer.

My eyes fell on one of the sofas positioned near the center of the room, and I walked over before lowering myself onto it.

The moment I sat down, I almost sighed. The difference was ridiculous.

The furniture felt soft beneath me, the leather smooth against my fingertips, and the cushions immediately adjusted to my weight. Even the texture felt different from the furniture that had been delivered to our hostel.

I ran my fingers over the armrest.

They could afford to furnish their own office with furniture like this, yet somehow the furniture they supplied to us had been nowhere near the same quality.

I had been so focused on everything else when I first entered the building that I hadn't noticed how quiet the room was.

Until I looked up.

Julian was staring at me. Mr. Harrington was staring at me too, although his expression was far less amused.

"Who the hell is she?" he demanded, his eyes moving over me with open irritation. "And who allowed a woman to walk into my office without an appointment?"

I leaned back comfortably against the sofa.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about me for now," I said, giving him a polite smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "We're here because we have a few things to discuss with you."

Mr. Harrington's expression darkened.

Julian sat opposite me, leaving the small table between us, while Mr. Harrington finally took his place behind his desk.

"We found traces of fraud connected to your company," Julian said calmly. "We're here to give you the opportunity to explain yourself before the matter is taken further."

Mr. Harrington scoffed.

"Fraud? That's a serious accusation. You have no evidence, and there's absolutely no reason for my company to be involved in anything illegal."

"The furniture you supplied to us isn't what we paid for," I interrupted. "We were charged for top-tier furniture, yet what you delivered was clearly inferior to the quality advertised."

His eyes immediately snapped toward me.

I gestured toward the sofa beneath me.

"We wanted something like this. Instead, we received furniture that looked as though it had been sitting in storage for years. The difference in quality was obvious."

Mr. Harrington's face twisted with irritation.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but I suggest you mind your business. This has nothing to do with you."

His eyes moved toward Julian.

"Who even brought her in here?"

Before I could respond, Julian leaned forward slightly.

"Watch how you speak to her."

His voice had changed.

The playful confidence I had noticed earlier was gone, replaced by something colder.

Mr. Harrington stared at him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me." Julian remained perfectly composed, his gaze never leaving the older man's face. "You don't have to agree with her, but you're going to speak to her with the same respect you'd show anyone else in this room."

I looked at him.

For a moment, I couldn't quite process what I had just heard.

He hadn't even looked at me before defending me, and didn't hesitate. Mr. Harrington leaned back in his chair, clearly displeased.

"You're coming into my company, making accusations against me, and now you're telling me how to conduct myself?"

"No," Julian replied, the faintest smile returning to his face. "I'm telling you what I'm willing to tolerate."

The room went quiet.

Mr. Harrington looked between us, his suspicion becoming more obvious. "You people clearly don't understand who you're dealing with."

Julian stood. "I think you should be more worried about who you're dealing with."

Mr. Harrington's expression hardened.

"We'll see how far these accusations go when you have actual evidence." How could he be so sure of himself that we won't be able to get evidence about all of these?

"We will," Julian replied, standing up slowly while he buttoned his suit "Once we have everything we need, we'll come back."

He turned toward the door, and I stood as well. He opened the door, allowing me to walk out before following behind me.

Neither of us spoke until the elevator doors closed.

I stared at the numbers above us as they began to descend, but my mind wasn't on the investigation anymore.

It was on the way Julian had defended me.

"Are you sure we're going to get evidence?" I asked eventually.

He glanced at me.

"Yes." He replied "Even if we do, he'll probably find a way to put the blame on someone else. People like him don't usually sit around waiting to take responsibility when they know their company is at risk."

He sounded so determined to make sure to find an evidence. How could I forgive doesn't like being dared?

I hesitated before asking the question that had been sitting in my mind since we left the office.

"Why did you defend me back there?"

He looked at me, clearly amused by the question.

"What?" A smirk slowly appeared on his face. "Because I can."

I rolled my eyes while he laughed quietly, turning his attention toward the elevator doors.

"The only person who's allowed to bully you is me," he finally said, his voice carrying that familiar teasing edge. "I'm not going to stand there and watch someone else talk shit to you."

I stared at him. Fuck him!

The elevator doors opened.

We stepped into the lobby together, and I was still thinking about his words when my steps suddenly slowed.

My eyes landed on a familiar figure approaching from the opposite side of the lobby.

Stacy.

My heart dropped. She was walking toward us, her eyes scanning the room until they eventually landed on me, and finally on Julian. How could I forget I could meet her here considering the fact this was her father's company.

Running into her here was the last thing I needed, especially when I still hadn't figured out exactly how much her family was involved in everything. I also didn't want Julian to know my relationship with Adrian because she was definitely going to bring that up.

I quickly turned toward Julian.

"That call you mentioned earlier," I said, lowering my voice. "You should probably make it now. please"

He looked at me for a second, then followed my gaze.

"Right."

He pulled his phone from his pocket. I was quite shocked he listened to me without asking me why.

Before I could say anything else, he walked away, leaving me standing alone in the lobby.

I watched him disappear around the corner before slowly looking back. Stacy was already standing in front of me.

"Hi, Eleanor."

Her voice was sweet, while I forced a small smile.

"Hi."

Her eyes moved briefly over me before settling on my face.

"What are you doing in a place like this?"

A place like this?

My eyes slowly roamed across the lobby.

The polished floors, the expensive decorations, the reception desk, the people moving around with files and phones in their hands.

Then I looked back at her.

"I wish I hadn't stepped foot into this building."

Her smile faltered.

I continued before she could respond.

"It's quite unfortunate that a place like this can look so impressive from the outside and still have people running it who can't even provide decent furniture for the people they do business with."

Her expression changed.

"What exactly are you implying?" She folded her arms.."You've always had a habit of speaking in riddles whenever you want to make yourself sound clever."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, while I just stood there and said nothing.

"I saw you with Julian."

"So?"

She studied me carefully.

"You seem to be moving on rather quickly."

I almost laughed.

The audacity of her never ceased to amaze me. This was someone who had clung onto my ex for years, it's quite surprising this was coming from her.

I heard footsteps approaching from behind me.

Stacy's attention shifted over my shoulder.

A knowing smile slowly spread across her face.

"I guess your new boyfriend doesn't know the kind of person you were," she said, her gaze fixed behind me. "I can't believe you are with Julian."

I noticed she was staring behind me.

Oh, shit.

Julian was coming.