Meeting The Big Boss

Charlotte's POV

Before sunrise, I had already gotten out of bed, getting ready for work. It's funny to think that I woke up before the sun itself. After dressing up, the only thing left to do was lock the door to my apartment.

A short while later, I got into my car, a Bentley Flying Spur Mulliner, and headed to the newspaper office. By the time I arrived, the newsroom was already buzzing with activity.

Reporters hurried between desks with notepads in hand, editors reviewed page proofs, phones rang nonstop, and the printing department was making the final preparations for the morning edition.

"Good morning, Charlotte," several of my coworkers greeted as I walked in.

"Good morning, everyone," I replied with a warm smile.

The atmosphere was unusually lively.

Everyone was celebrating because one of the company's investigative journalists had finally cracked the high profile case, which had challenged the government for so long.

Well, it's actually no one else but me!

Our newspaper had become the center of attention overnight, and the excitement was written all over their faces. I made my way down the hallway until I reached my office.

As soon as I opened the door, I was surprised to find my employer, Mr. David Miller, sitting in the chair across from my desk with a freshly printed newspaper in his hands.

Judging by the bold headline splashed across the front page, it didn't take much to figure out what had captured his attention.

"Good morning, Mr. David Miller," I greeted, placing my bag on the desk.

"Good morning, Charlotte. How are you this morning?" he asked, lowering the newspaper onto his lap.

"I'm doing well, sir. How about you?"

"Very well," he replied with a nod.

"First of all, congratulations on your latest achievement. Your investigation didn't just make headlines. It also drove today's newspaper sales through the roof. The company hasn't stopped receiving calls from media outlets and advertisers since this morning," he applauded, wearing a proud smile.

"Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it," I replied, smiling back.

"By the way, this came for you." He reached into his briefcase and handed me a sealed envelope.

"I believe it's from the same person who sent the last ten letters," he added briefly.

The moment my eyes landed on the initials written across the envelope, my expression darkened with disgust.

Michaelson Logan Argent.

"I'll look at it later. I have far more important things to do than waste my time reading another meaningless letter," I hissed, tossing the envelope onto the corner of my desk without a second glance.

Mr. David Miller noticed the sudden change in my expression and smirked.

"You really don't like this person, do you?" he chuckled blandly.

"Well, since you've decided not to read the letter, I'm sure you won't refuse to meet the big boss instead. He's been waiting for you for the past few minutes, so I don't think you should keep him waiting any longer, Miss Anderson," he informed, a casual smile twisting his wrinkled face.

With that, he rose from his chair and left my office. His words frankly left me irritated. I unconsciously leaned against my desk, my mind racing with suspicion.

I was certain this was Michael's latest trick to lure me into seeing him. He had to be out of his mind if he thought that, after playing with my feelings, he could simply walk back into my life.

How could he possibly believe I would throw away seven years of heartbreak and welcome him back with open arms?

"What a jerk," I scoffed, looking really pissed. "I'm still not giving up on my plans to get revenge on him."

Pushing myself away from the desk, I walked over to my locker. After all these years apart, I was sure Michael was eager to see me again. If that was what he wanted, then I'd use it against him. This would only be the beginning of my revenge.

With that, I unlocked the locker and pulled out a figure hugging dress that would accentuate my curves.

Slowly, I took off my corporate wear and slid into the plunge gown. The dress fitted so perfectly that my breasts stood firm and inviting in the sexy outfit.

If Michael was really waiting to see me, then he would definitely regret it. He could look all he wanted, but he wouldn't be able to lay a finger on me, especially not inside the newspaper office.

When I arrived at the private visitor's room I had been directed to, I reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

The smug smile on my face vanished instantly.

The person waiting inside wasn't Michael.

Instead, a cute little six year old boy sat beside a tall blonde guy, both of them looking as though they hadn't been expecting my arrival. I easily recognized the blonde as Corey Graves, Michael's loyal lapdog.

But the little kid… I wasn't really sure about his identity.

The moment my eyes rested on the boy's face, painful memories came rushing back like a flood. I couldn't stop myself from recalling the day Michael betrayed me with that Omega bitch.

The sight before me only deepened the ache in my heart.

His son was alive, healthy, and thriving... While my daughter died four years ago because of him.

Every one of the boy's features resembled Michael's. From his bright blue eyes and dark, curly hair to his chiseled jawline and handsome face, he looked like a miniature version of his father.

He was just as undeniably adorable, and that only fueled my suspicion that Michael was using his own son as a pawn to get to me.

No.

I shouldn't jump to conclusions just yet.

I'd ask Corey who the boy was before deciding what to believe.

"Who's he, and what are the two of you doing in my workplace?" I thundered angrily, fixing an icy glare on Corey.

He shifted uneasily in his seat, clearly trying to appear calm and reserved. I wasn't surprised. After all, he had stood by in silence and watched me get banished seven years ago.

"Uh... this is Dwayne, Alpha Michaelson's son," Corey responded. "Michael sent him here in the hope that you could help him find his mother, as the successful investigative journalist you are. Please... just hear him out."

His voice was calm and gentle, but it did nothing to soften the frost in my eyes.

The moment those words left his lips, all the color drained from my face. My teeth clenched so hard they almost bit my tongue, and my blood began to boil with rage.

So this was Michael's plan.

He actually had the audacity to send his own son here. I didn't care if I was reacting exactly the way he wanted me to. It was obvious this had been his plan all along. He had deliberately sent his son to stand before me, knowing exactly what seeing him would do to me.

The sight of that little boy had ripped open wounds I had spent the last seven years trying to heal.

My anger rapidly reached its breaking point.

I wasn't about to stand here and let them toy with my emotions any longer.