Chapter 42
Easton parked in front of the house and rushed out, hurrying into the compound. The maids watched him, their eyes lingering on his retreating figure until he vanished behind the door.
As soon as he closed the door, they exchanged knowing glances, their faces breaking into soft chuckles. “That’s how he’ll be running up and down.” One hissed.
The other scoffed, clapping her hands in amusement. “I hate him. The way he speaks, walks, everything about him. He’s no different from that silly lady, Rowan.”
The first maid shook her head, opposing her friend’s view. “No, he’s not like her. That’s why I have a crush on him. He’s gentle and looks amazing—even better than Alaric.”
The second maid shot her a scornful look, her face twisted in disgust. “You can’t be serious.” She hissed, turning away.
Easton entered the parlor and hastened to Cressida’s room. He knocked on the door, but before he could announce himself, Cressida opened it as if she’d been waiting by the entrance, expecting someone’s arrival.
She’d been on edge since Alaric left, her nerves frayed and her mind racing. She couldn’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the same spot for nearly an hour.
Easton bowed slightly. “Good day, ma’am,” he greeted, his voice tinged with urgency. Before she could respond, he added, “the boss has been trying to reach you, but your line’s been busy. He wants me to bring you over.”
She nodded immediately. “I’ve been trying to reach him, too, but it kept saying user busy,” she said, taking a step back and partially closing the door. “Let me change.”
She strode to the wardrobe, flinging it open. She grabbed the first dress her hand touched and tossed it onto the bed. She quickly shed her midi gown, replacing it with a petal-sleeve top.
She grabbed a pair of jeans, struggling to squeeze into them for a few seconds before admitting defeat. She tossed them onto the floor and rushed back to the wardrobe, yanking it open.
Her eyes scanned the dresses, searching for something to pair with the top she’d already put on. Spotting a maxi skirt on the hanger, she quickly snatched it and dropped the hanger on the floor. She hastily slipped into the skirt and grabbed her phone from the bed.
Without bothering to tidy up, she rushed out of the room, leaving the wardrobe open and clothes scattered on the floor.
“Let’s go!”
Easton barely had time to turn around before she breezed past him, her feet seemingly barely touching the ground.
As she flung open the entrance door, she collided with Anna, who was coming in the opposite direction. And they stumbled.
Cressida’s body crashed into Anna’s, and Anna instinctively wrapped her arms around Cressida’s waist, trying to break her fall.
Easton rushed to their side, scooping Cressida into his right arm while supporting Anna’s elbow with his left hand.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, releasing Anna’s hand without a second glance to ensure she was steady. His attention focused on Cressida, holding her until she regained her balance and stood upright.
Anna took a step back, her head bowed in guilt. “I’m sorry, ma’am!” She apologized, her face reflecting her fear of having ruined her chances with Cressida.
She’d been trying to win Cressida over since they knew their salaries source, but hadn’t gotten the opportunity to prove herself. Now, she worried that this incident might cost her a job.
Cressida shook her head slightly. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said, dismissing Anna’s apology. Without another word, she turned to Easton. “Where’s the car?”
“Outside.” He replied, walking ahead of her with a few steps’ distance between them.
Almost an hour later, the gate swung open, and Easton slowed down, driving into the compound. As the car entered the parking lot, Cressida couldn’t wait for him to park properly, stepping out of the car and waiting for him to lead the way.
After parking the car, Easton turned off the engine and rushed out to join her. With a nod, he gestured toward the mansion. “Let’s go in.” He said, and they walked side by side, almost touching, as they entered the mansion.
“Welcome.”
A maid greeted them with a bow and a warm smile, and led Cressida to the inner parlor where Alaric and Tamsin were waiting.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Cressida said, her neck slightly bent as she acknowledged Tamsin, who was sitting adjacent to Alaric—with a table between them.
Tamsin’s face lit up with smile. “Afternoon, dear,” she responded. “How’re you doing? It’s been a stressful day, hasn’t it?”
Cressida chuckled softly and moved to sit beside Alaric, who shifted to make space for her.
Tamsin crossed her legs, her expression turning serious. “Cressida, you know what’s at risk, right?” She flung a question and continued without a response. “If you can’t win the project, you’ll be stripped of your position, and seize Alaric’s share… permanently.”
Cressida’s eyes widened in shock, her lips quivering as she swiftly stared at Tamsin and Alaric. “But… how… why…” she stammered.
Tamsin nodded understandingly. “I know what you’re thinking. Dawson knows you’ll struggle—he just set you up for failure. He’s after Alaric’s share, and I despise him for it.”
Her expression turned determined as she leaned forward, locking eyes with Cressida. “To avoid a problem we can’t solve, we need to work together and give our all to secure this project. If we lost, it’s over. It’ll be the end of everything.”
Alaric shifted forward in his seat, his eyes fixed on Tamsin. “What’s the way forward now?”
A discreet smile spread across Tamsin’s lips. “Cutting off Dawson’s options and clarify that he’ll never win, no matter how hard he tries. We’ll do this once—and for all.”
Cressida nodded, her mind racing for a solution. She agreed with Tamsin’s assessment, but her thoughts remained frustratingly blank.
Easton entered and hurried to Alaric’s side, holding a phone tightly in his hand. “Here’s what we found, sir,” he showed the screen to him, and Alaric scrolled through the images.
Alaric studied the pictures intently, but they yielded nothing. He collected it from Easton and stared intensely at it for another minute, but still nothing, causing his forehead to wrinkle, confused.
Tamsin’s brow furrowed in impatience. “What is it?” She asked.
Without hesitation, Alaric handed the phone to Easton, gesturing for him to show it to her.
Easton rushed to Tamsin’s side and bent his back, lowering his hand to her gaze, and after making her stare at the first image for a few seconds, he swiped to the other one. “And this one, ma.”
“Is that all you could find?” Tamsin asked, and Easton nodded, standing upright.
Director Tamsin exhaled deeply, shaking her head slightly. “This is useless,” she declared. “These details are pointless—just a list of organizations the project supervisor worked with. If we had time to dig deeper, it might be helpful. But right now, we need to focus on the essential. Who’s the project supervisor is, where he stays, and maybe is hobby. We–”
Her phone’s beep interrupted her and she picked it up, unlocking it to read the message. As she read the headline, a satisfied smile spread across her face. “I trust my boy to deliver,” she whispered, her grin growing wider as she scrolled to the message’s end.
With a knowing glance, she met Cressida and Alaric’s expectant gazes. They were nervous yet calm, anticipating the good news behind her smile.
Tamsin lifted her hand from her thighs, slowly shaking the phone, her voice filled with excitement as she announced. “I just got a list of the five international supervisors who could be in charge of this contra country at the moment, so whoever it is among them should–”
Before she could continue, the door creaked open, and Floria burst in, panting heavily.
“Wait!” She shouted, and everyone turned to her, surprised.
“What happened?” Easton asked, concern etched on his face as he took a step towards her.
Floria ignored his question and the gaze on her, rushing to Cressida’s side. She grabbed Cressida’s hand, pulling her up and turning her around.
“What happened?” Cressida asked, but Floria didn’t respond to her. Instead, her hands hovered over her shoulders, ready to search her, but Alaric’s voice stopped her.
“What are you doing?” Alaric questioned.
Floria glanced at Alaric, her hands still on Cressida’s shoulders. “There’s a device on her.”