Chapter 54 Cast Out
"So you decided to bypass the chain of command and come straight to me?" Terrence cut her off, his impatience sharp and unfiltered.
"When did the Anderson Group's procedures become so casual? If you can't find your immediate supervisor for urgent documents, you escalate step by step. You don't show up at someone's home."
His voice cooled even further. "Ms. Sharp, if you can't grasp basic workplace rules, perhaps the Anderson Group isn't the right place for you."
Hestia's breath caught, her fingers tightening around the folder. She bit her lip, a faint tremor in her voice. "Terrence, I know the rules. But this is critical. I was afraid it would delay the project, so I thought bringing it directly was the fastest way. I realize it's after hours… I'm sorry for disturbing you."
"If you know it's a disturbance, then leave." Terrence's dismissal was absolute.
"Leave the file. I'll have the duty secretary handle it. From now on, any document needing my signature goes through Barry or the secretary's office. I don't want a repeat of this."
Bianca watched Terrence's unyielding stance, blinking once. For reasons she couldn't quite name, it felt satisfying.
She suppressed the urge to smile and turned to Hestia. "Ms. Sharp, Terrence doesn't like strangers showing up at his home. He speaks plainly—don't take it personally."
Hestia swallowed her pride. "I understand. I'll go now."
When the door closed, Terrence's attention shifted back to Bianca.
She curved her lips. "You looked incredibly impressive just now."
A faint smile flickered in his eyes. He drew her into his arms, resting his chin on the crown of her head. "Mrs. Anderson, my heart is small. It only has room for one person—you."
Warmth spread through her chest. She tilted her head up and kissed his jaw. "I know."
The next morning, Bianca woke to find his arm still wrapped firmly around her waist. She moved slightly, and Terrence stirred.
"Morning." His voice was husky with sleep. He tightened his hold, pressing a kiss to her hair.
Bianca brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth. "Today I'll keep my phone charged, so I can answer whenever you call."
His eyes softened briefly. He pinched her earlobe. "Remember that."
They rose together, washed, and shared breakfast. Before leaving, Bianca carefully checked Terrence's medication for the day, sorting it into labeled containers and giving detailed instructions to the butler and staff.
"I'm heading out." She stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
"Mm." He squeezed her hand.
Bianca reached the Rodriguez Group fifteen minutes before official start time. She had barely settled at her desk when the internal phone rang.
"Ms. Rodriguez, my office. Now." Lon's voice revealed nothing.
Bianca stood calmly. Around her, colleagues exchanged glances—some sympathetic, others anticipating drama.
She opened the office door. Lon was sipping tea from a thermal mug. He gestured for her to close the door.
"Ms. Rodriguez, the archive files you processed yesterday have discrepancies in key financial data, according to the finance department. The electronic format is also messy, which created extra work."
He set the mug down, his tone edged with reproach. "You may have a special status, but if you work here, you follow the rules. Today you'll recheck all of yesterday's files. And here"—he slid a thick stack of papers across—"is a three-year record of client transactions. I expect it organized by the end of the day."
Bianca looked at the pile but didn't reach for it. She lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes with a faint curve to her lips.
"Lon, the finance department says the data doesn't match? Which entries exactly? Please provide their specific feedback and supporting documents. If there's an issue, we can verify it right now."
Lon blinked, then stiffened. "They gave a verbal report. If you can't handle this, perhaps you should just leave."
Her smile vanished, her eyes cooling. "Lon, my departure isn't for you to decide."
Color surged into his face, then drained to gray. "What's that supposed to mean?" He shot to his feet. "I'm your direct superior. Assigning tasks is my responsibility. If you can't deliver, that's on your ability—don't talk about leaving."
Bianca tapped the stack of files with one finger. "Responsibility? Then let's talk about yours."
She took a slim folder from her handbag and placed it on the desk, sliding it toward him. "For example, last year's third-quarter procurement contract with the building materials company—priced fifteen percent above market. Nearly eight hundred thousand dollars in difference. Which private account did it end up in?"
Lon's pupils contracted. Sweat broke across his temple. He stared at the folder as if it might explode.
"You… You're making baseless accusations. Where did you get this? This is theft of company secrets!" His voice cracked, and he lunged for the folder.
Bianca was faster, pressing her hand over it. Her smile was icy. "Theft? These figures came from the archives you assigned me. Shall I pull out every receipt and transaction screenshot for everyone to see?"
With each word, Lon's face paled further. By the end, he was ghost-white, his knees threatening to give way. He had never imagined that the woman he dismissed as a decorative presence could uncover years of his quiet manipulations so quickly.
"What… What do you want?" His voice trembled.
He knew better than anyone that exposure would mean more than losing his job.
"Simple." Bianca withdrew her hand, smoothing her sleeve with deliberate calm. "First, stop assigning me meaningless busywork. Second, I want access to core projects and real business operations. Don't try to bury me in a fake role."
"If you can't—or if you pretend to comply—I'll deliver this, along with the evidence, to the audit department and the board."
Lon collapsed back into his chair, lips quivering. After a long moment, he managed, "I… I understand, Ms. Rodriguez. I was wrong. You have my word."
Bianca didn't spare him another glance. She picked up her handbag and walked out.
She had no desire to linger in the building. Stepping out of the Rodriguez Group's doors, she checked the time. It was still early.
The irritation from dealing with petty politics faded as her thoughts drifted to Terrence. In its place came a quiet, insistent longing.