Chapter 157 Arthur’s Wrath
Arthur walked out of Serenity Blooms Studio with a storm cloud hanging over him. He got in the car and told the driver in a cold, flat voice, "Take me to the office. Find Rachel."
The car sped through the streets. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. The more he thought about Rachel's behavior at the flower studio — the deliberate nitpicking, the seemingly casual conversation — the more obvious it all seemed. Every word had been a probe.
How had she known to show up at that exact time? How had she just happened to run into him? She'd been testing him the whole time.
When he got to Grant Corporation, he didn't wait for his secretary to announce him. He kicked open the door to the assistant's office.
Rachel was touching up her makeup in front of the mirror, thinking over Sophie's instructions, when the sudden noise made her jump. She turned around and saw Arthur standing in the doorway, his face dark, his eyes cold enough to swallow her whole. The color drained from her face. She scrambled to her feet. "Mr. Grant — what are you doing here?"
Arthur walked toward her, step by step. The pressure coming off him forced her back until she hit the edge of the desk with nowhere left to go.
He looked down at her, his voice cold as ice, each word deliberate. "How did you know about that flower studio? What made you decide to go there?"
Rachel's heart lurched. She tightened her grip on her makeup brush and forced a calm smile. "Mr. Grant, I just came across it on a local app last night. The reviews looked good, so I thought I'd order a custom bouquet for a client. I had no idea you'd be there."
"A coincidence."
He let out a short, contemptuous laugh. He reached out and gripped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "A coincidence that I happened to be there when you walked in? A coincidence that every word out of your mouth was aimed at her — picking fights, dropping my name in front of her? Rachel. Do you think I'm stupid?"
Her chin ached where he was gripping it. Her eyes went red, but she didn't dare pull away. She kept dodging his gaze, repeating herself. "It really was a coincidence, Mr. Grant. I don't even know who she is. Why would I go after her?"
"You don't know who she is."
He tightened his grip and watched the panic flicker in her eyes. "Then how did you know she owned the studio? How did you know exactly which flowers and packaging to complain about? And why did you choose to make a scene while I was standing right there?"
He'd seen through her act at the time — he just hadn't bothered to dig into it, too caught up in Aria's coldness. Now that he'd cooled down, something felt very wrong.
Rachel was just an assistant. She had no nerve and no reason to go after Aria — especially when he'd already made it clear she was off-limits. Someone had put her up to this.
What Arthur didn't know was that Rachel's interest in him was anything but simple.
Rachel had no answer. Cold sweat broke out across her forehead. Sophie's warning rang in her ears. She bit down hard on her lip and refused to give anything up. "I just wasn't happy with the flowers," she said vaguely. "I was being careful because the client is really picky. I didn't mean anything by it, Mr. Grant. You've got the wrong idea."
She was still stonewalling him. The cold in Arthur's eyes deepened. He shoved her chin away. Rachel stumbled and dropped into the office chair, shaken.
He stared at her. "Who sent you? Sophie?"
Rachel flinched. She looked up and met his gaze, then quickly shook her head. "No. No one sent me, Mr. Grant. I really did just see the studio's ad and decided to go. Nobody told me to."
But her panic and her shifting eyes had already given her away.
Arthur looked at her and knew he had his answer. His expression went darker.
He didn't push further. He just said, coldly, "Starting today, you're suspended. Go home and think it over. When you're ready to tell me who sent you and why, come back and see me."
The moment he turned to leave, Rachel lunged from the chair and grabbed his sleeve with both hands, her knuckles white from the grip. Her eyes went red. Tears spilled down her face without warning. Her voice broke into a plea.
"Mr. Grant, please don't suspend me. I know I was wrong. I was just being foolish — the reviews looked good so I went, and I complained because the flowers weren't what I expected. I got worked up in the moment. I never meant to go after anyone. I never meant to make you angry."
She was shaking as she cried, shoulders trembling, head bowed low, her hair falling over her face and leaving only a pale strip of her neck visible. The way she looked — frightened and helpless — reminded him, faintly, of the first time he'd seen Aria cry alone, swallowing her hurt, small and fragile.
Arthur stopped. He looked down at the hand clutching his sleeve.
Something in him went soft.
That small resemblance pricked at a memory he'd kept buried, and the hard set of his face eased just slightly.
Rachel felt him hesitate. She cried harder, her voice thick and raw, small and desperate. "Mr. Grant, my family doesn't have much. This job means everything to me. I can't lose it. I promise — nothing like this will ever happen again. I'll keep my head down and do my work and stay out of trouble. Please. Just one more chance."
She looked up at him, eyes full of tears, lashes wet and clinging to her cheeks. It was hard not to feel something looking at her.
Arthur was quiet for a moment. The heaviness around him lifted a little. He looked at her and finally let out a slow breath.
He pulled his sleeve free. His voice was still cold, but the finality was gone. "This is the last time."
Rachel stopped crying instantly. Relief broke across her face. She nodded over and over. "Thank you, Mr. Grant. Thank you. I won't forget this. I won't do it again."
"If there is a next time, it won't just be a suspension."
He gave her a cold look. "And don't mention what happened today to anyone. Don't go anywhere near Serenity Blooms Studio again. If you do, that's on you."
"I understand. I understand."
Rachel kept nodding, not daring to say another word. She watched Arthur walk away, then slowly let out the breath she'd been holding. She wiped the tears from her face. Deep in her eyes, barely visible, was a flicker of relief — and resentment.
Out in the hallway, Arthur pressed his fingers to his temple. That moment of weakness bothered him.
He'd let Rachel off the hook because she'd reminded him of Aria. When it came down to it, the guilt he carried for Aria had worked its way into his bones.
He took out his phone and sent William a message: [Keep a close eye on Rachel. I want to know who she's been talking to.]
He didn't believe any of this was a coincidence. Whoever was behind it — he was going to find out.