Chapter 5

DOMINIQUE.

It was only when he’d left and I’d reclined to my study that I came into full realisation of what I’d done. I felt like a fool, a tool for use. I shouldn’t have let Mr. Shane go. Worse still, I’d bought into his silly idea of his daughter working for me to repay the money he owed me. How fucked up was that? Years ago when Mr. Shane and I had gone into business, I never thought things would go so awry that it’d end up with him running away with my millions on investment and it had infuriated me to no end. I had to track him down and make him pay somehow. Now, he’d found a way to buy himself out. 

I hit my fist on the wooden table, muttering a string of curses under my breath. Oh well, his daughter was going to suffer for it. She’d pay for the sins of her father with every sweat and tear used in building the business from scratch. I didn’t care. Someone had to take the fall. 

Mr. Shane had already informed me through a quick phone call made to one of my bodyguards–the one that had stayed the longest–that his daughter had begun packing her bags and she’d be ready whenever I was. I quickly ordered my men to be on their way to his place while waiting in the sitting room. I wanted to be the first to give her a test of the medicine I was dealt with. It took approximately an hour and thirty minutes for them to arrive and I counted every minute of every hour in my mind, staring at the huge grandfather clock on the wall. The roar of the van gave me some relief and I stared out through the large French windows till I heard the knock on the door. 

Magdalene led the girl to where I was, announcing her presence. The first thing I noticed about Mr. Shane’s daughter was that she was tiny, barely grazing five feet five inches, and her dirty black hair was braided down her waist. She wore a sleeveless floral gown with several stains on it, and which exposed a bit of cleavage I had no interest in. Her gaze kept darting about, a hint of curiosity in them. I instantly hated her, and the holes in her worn-out slippers didn’t help the situation. This girl–whatever her name was–had been loud-mouthed on the night my men bursted into Mr. Shane’s apartment and I’d been furious by how carelessly she talked, hurling insults here and there. It was hard to believe she was the same person, her face meek like a day old baby. Fuck that. This was purely an act, her father had schooled her on how to behave and she was just acting out a script. Something about this reminded me of my past, and my heart hardened the more. 

Gosh. I hated revisiting my childhood days. They were filled with sorrow and pain and heartache and at the moment, I didn’t need that negativity. The past was in the past and it had toughened me up to be the rugged man I was today–feared by many. I intended to let it stay that way.