Chapter 192 Power plays

Chapter 192 Power plays
Chapter 192: Power Plays

Allan adjusted the cuff of his suit.

“If there are any complaints or concerns,” Allan said, his tone smooth and detached, “you may direct them to my personal assistant.”

He gestured slightly toward Aj, who stood by the door, tablet in hand, posture straight and professional.

Aj inclined his head. “I’ll be happy to assist.”

Allan did not wait for further questions. He simply turned and walked out of the conference room. 

The door closed behind him.

Only then did the room begin to breathe again.

A low murmur spread, disbelief weaving through every corner.

“What just happened?”

“Is that actually Allan Renshaw?”

“How is this even possible?”

Golden remained seated, her fingers resting lightly against the table, her body still, but her mind racing. 

Beside her, Xander’s jaw remained tight, his gaze fixed on the door long after Allan had left.

One by one, people began to rise, gathering their files, their devices, their confusion. Chairs scraped softly against the polished floor as the meeting dissolved into fragmented conversations and unsettled energy.

Golden stood slowly.

Across the room, Alex, Linda, and Fabulous avoided each other’s eyes. There was no greeting, no acknowledgment, not even a glance. They moved like strangers, each heading in a different direction as though proximity alone might expose something they were not ready to confront.

Golden followed the same unspoken rule.

The hallway outside was quiet, lined with glass panels that reflected movement in sharp clarity. Staff moved briskly, conversations low, the air thick with curiosity.

She had barely taken a few steps when Xander caught her wrist.

“Golden.”

She turned.

His grip was not tight, but it was firm enough to stop her.

“Don’t go in there,” he said, his voice low, controlled.

Golden frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Xander replied, his eyes searching hers. “His office.”

Golden pulled her hand free gently. “He asked to see me. He’s the boss now. This is work.”

Xander let out a short, humorless breath. “Work.”

She held his gaze. “Yes.”

He studied her for a second longer, something sharp flickering beneath his calm exterior.

“Or maybe you’re just eager to see him again,” he said, a faint scoff slipping into his voice.

Golden’s expression hardened slightly. “That’s not fair.”

But Xander had already stepped back.

“Do whatever you want,” he muttered, turning away. “You always do.”

He walked off without another word, heading toward his office, his shoulders rigid, his pace faster than usual.

Golden stood there for a second, watching him go.

Then she turned.

Allan’s office was at the far end of the corridor, larger than the others, its glass walls partially frosted for privacy. The door stood slightly ajar.

Aj was stationed just outside.

He looked up as she approached, recognition flickering briefly across his face before he masked it with professionalism.

“Doctor Golden,” he said politely.

“Is he in?” she asked.

Aj nodded. “He’s expecting you.”

He stepped aside and opened the door wider.

Golden walked in without hesitation.

Aj closed the door behind her, leaving them alone.

The office was expansive, minimalist yet expensive, with a panoramic view of the city stretching beyond the glass windows. Everything about the space reflected power and control. The desk was large, immaculate, with no unnecessary clutter.

Allan stood by the window, his back to her.

For a moment, he did not turn.

Golden took a few steps forward, stopping just short of the desk.

Her gaze lingered on him, studying the subtle shift in his posture, the way he carried himself now. There was no trace of hesitation in him anymore.

“Is it Martin,” she said finally, her voice calm but edged, “or Allan… or maybe Desmond this time?”

There was a brief pause. Then Allan turned.

His gaze settling on her with a quiet intensity.

“No,” he replied smoothly. “Maybe Xander.”

Golden blinked, thrown off for a fraction of a second by the response.

Then she recovered.

“Very funny,” she said flatly.

Allan walked back to his desk, taking his seat with ease, his movements controlled, deliberate.

“What can I do for you, Doctor?” he asked. 

Golden crossed her arms loosely. “You asked to see me…and what are you doing in Florida?”

He did not respond immediately.

“And how did all this happen?” she continued, her eyes scanning the office. “The sudden rise. The company. The hospital. Everything. Few weeks ago you were a waiter…a stripper, an escort…a proper gigolo.” 

Allan leaned back slightly in his chair, studying her.

“You’re in my office,” he said, his voice quieter now, but heavier. “At your workplace.”

Golden’s lips pressed together.

“There are cameras,” Allan continued, gesturing lightly toward the corners of the room. “Audio and visual. So I suggest you remain professional.”

His gaze held hers steadily.

“Unless you’re interested in losing your job,” he added, “and potentially ruining your career.”

Golden nodded slowly, her expression tightening.

“Right,” she said. “Professional,” 

A beat passed.

Then her lips curved slightly, but there was no warmth in it.

“Before you blackmail me again,” she added.

Allan’s brows pulled together slightly.

Confusion flickered across his face, brief but unmistakable.

“What are you talking about?”

Golden held his gaze.

For a second, something almost like hesitation passed through her eyes, but it vanished quickly.

“Nothing,” she said, her tone flattening again. “Let’s keep this strictly business. Like you said.”

Allan watched her closely, as if trying to read something beneath her words.

Then he leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the desk.

“Good,” he said. “Because that’s exactly what this is.”

He reached for a file and slid it across the desk toward her.

Golden stepped forward and picked it up.

As he spoke, his tone remained controlled, authoritative, outlining expectations, responsibilities, the structure of the new system he was implementing.

Golden listened. She did not interrupt.

Her eyes moved over the documents, but her mind was split, half focused on his words, half on the man in front of her.

When he finished, he sat back again.

“That’s all,” he said simply.

Golden closed the file slowly. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then she placed the file back on the desk.

“Understood,” she said.

She turned without another word and walked toward the door.

Her hand rested briefly on the handle before she opened it.

She did not look back.

Behind her, Allan’s gaze followed her until she stepped out of the office and the door closed softly between them.