Chapter 42

“A.. a price?” Fleur stuttered, standing up with wide eyes.

Sheila smirked, her face a mix of malice and pride,

“Yes.” she replied.

“There’s a price he has to pay,” She firmly asserted.

Fleur turned his head to the side, raking his fingers over his hair. He's obviously screwed, big time.

Finally, he exhaled then turned back to Sheila, “What’s the price?” He softly demanded and Sheila huffed, crossing her hands across her chest.

“Not something I have to discuss with you,” She mused, lips curling.

Fleur gasped.

“If your boss cares to know what the price is…..” She paused, then cast Fleur a long, awkward glance.

“Then he needs to see me,” She finalized authoritatively and Fleur's hands slumped on his side.

What now? Tell Arthur that Sheila demands to see him? It didn't make any sense—at all.

He heaved, then took a step towards Sheila, “I understand that my boss needs to hear whatever the price is directly from you, but I need a clue…” Sheila stifled in a laugh as she stared at him, eyes wide in awe.

Was this the same arrogant dude that talked degradingly at her? Or was he another person?!

This is quite interesting. The jerky Fleur actually knows how to talk calmly? That's new.

She clicked tongue, then glanced at the time. “Like I said, I don't go back on my word, Fleur Louis.” She grimaced, her tone firm and commanding.

Fleur rubbed his temples slightly then nodded, “Thanks for your time, Sheila Grey.” he muttered softly, taking her hand for another warm handshake.

Fleur was led out of the office, with Sheila walking slowly behind him.

They met Andrew at the door, without any exchange of words, Fleur glanced briefly at Andrew then walked out completely.

“Ma’am….” Andrew began but Sheila cut in.

“Follow me,” She said, her voice firm and detached.

Andrew quietly followed her.

_________________

Arthur sat in the car, his eyes staring blankly at his phone screen.

He had followed Fleur to Sheila's company but on a second thought, he decided to stop halfway and let Fleur go do his thing. But as he sat in the car, his neck stiffened and his eyes turned dark as he felt that Fleur had taken much more time than he was supposed to.

He glanced at his wristwatch and a deep drawn-out sigh escaped his throat.

He was running out of time. He probably needed to be at his office.

He turned to the driver, “Move the car,” he ordered.

As the driver turned on the car's engine, Fleur popped up, masking his anxious face with a smile, but hell? Who was he deceiving? Arthur?

Arthur already knew something was off the moment he saw him approaching the car, he could see right through him.

Fleur gently opened the car door then sat, his fingers trembling even as he struggled to mask his nervousness.

The tension grew and Fleur felt Arthur's piercing gaze on him as the driver finally moved the car, but he dared not glance at Arthur. He might pass out.

As the car glided sharply on the road, the tension between Arthur and Fleur deepened, their chest heaving and their breaths filtering out softly.

The gentle hum of the car's engine sliced through the air like a sharp blade, the breeze gentle and soothing —trying to light up the tense atmosphere.

“Do well to get a good replacement once we get to the office,” Arthur finally spoke, his voice chilled and unyielding, lacking warmth.

Fleur snapped his head towards him, lips parting in shock, “Don’t tell me I'm fired,” he mused, eyes flickering in shock.

“If that's your own version of interpretation,” Arthur replied coldly.

Fleur's throat bubbled as he gulped in a heavy lump, “Trust me, I did my best and…”

“Never asked to give me a breakdown, Fleur,” Arthur deadpanned, his blazing gaze landing on Fleur's face.

Fleur's gaze hardened, air leaving his lungs.

“She did agree but it comes with a price,” he almost screamed, but his voice came out low, really low.

Fleur saw Arthur's eyes flicker with what he couldn't name, a smirk grazing his lips.

“A price?” he scoffed, then leaned back against his seat, his fingers massaging his cheekbones.

“Spill,” he ordered, and Fleur's brows furrowed.

His heart slammed against his ribcage, his throat sour.

“She… she….” he stuttered then heaved with a slight bow, lips trembling.

“I’m sorry but she refused to share the price with me. According to her statement, if you're interested in knowing what it is, then you should link up,” Fleur said breathlessly and Arthur's face twisted in surprise, then anger before a cackle spilled.

“Seriously?” he hissed, his jaw hardened.

“I should really teach that little woman some manners,” he grimaced, then the car jerked gently, coming to a stop in front of the company.

Arthur and Fleur came down from the car, their footsteps slow, yet calculated.

“She said to link up?” he asked again, then turned to Fleur who's walking cautiously beside him,

“My schedules please,” he rolled eyes and Fleur nodded.

He pulled out the tab which has Arthur's schedule for the day and began reading it out.

“Stop!!” Arthur suddenly said and Fleur shot his head up in surprise.

“Huh?”

“The last schedule you read out,” he demanded.

“You have a brief meeting with the board of…”

“Pass, not this, the next one.” He cut him off, his teeth gritted.

“You have to meet up with your dad later today by 7pm at the family's house,” he said and Arthur turned to him, eyes blazing with fury.

“And how did that find its way to my schedule?” he demanded, face scrunched up in anger.

“I’m sorry but your father called me earlier this morning to include that in your schedule and…” Arthur's finger rose in the air, making Fleur halt on his words.

“And you did that without consulting me?” Arthur snarled. “Fleur, are you working for me or for Wilson?” he shot, his chest heaving in mad rage.

Fleur bowed, his lips pressed tightly together, “I’m sorry,” he murmured and Arthur huffed.

“Cancel that shît, I'm meeting no one.” he muttered, his tone firm, giving no room for protests.

“And replace it with something else. I think I've got a little time to spare,” he said, itching the nape of his neck.

“Contact Sheila and let her know that I'm ready to meet her, but it mustn't pass today,” he informed and Fleur nodded, getting to work immediately.

Soon, he arrived at his office and Arthur's expression switched, his eyes turned inky as he stared at his office door.

Why does it feel like something is off? He brushed the thoughts off then opened the door, but a mean, devious smirk appeared on his lips at who he saw.

Ethan Lavoie.

Sitting gracefully on his CEO seat, a smile dancing across his lips as he enjoyed the luxury, staring around the enigmatic office.

“Oh, speak of my cousin brother…” Ethan cackled with a smile, still sitting rigidly on the seat, his fingers tapping the table—in a slow, sarcastic way.

Arthur scoffed, “And what are you doing in my office?”

“My office you mean?” Ethan sneered, his brows thickening.

“You’re just a stand-in, dear brother. The company is not yours and it'll be handed over to me after my wedding next week, see? That makes this office mine,” Ethan laughed, his tone taunting and laced with mockery.

Arthur smirked, his expression still neutral, “You done bluffing? Ethan Lavoie?” Arthur hissed, then Ethan stood, eyes brewing with rage.

“Bluffing?” he scoffed. “Is that pain I sense in your tone? You're actually pained that I took everything away from you?” he snapped angrily.

Arthur folded his hands, staring at Ethan with mixed feelings.

He wanted to smash his head brutally against the wall and watch his blood wet the tiles of his office, but that would be a waste of his own time.

Ethan didn't deserve his attention, not even the slightest.

Ethan continued, “First, I took your girlfriend from you and I'm tying the knot with her next week. I've taken this company and office from you because you're seemingly not capable, you're a loser, Arthur! That's who you are. A loser who'll lose everything to me…. Nope, who lost everything to me.”

“Watch me walk down the aisle with your then girlfriend,” he snarled.

Ethan must have said those words to infuriate Arthur, to piss him off rather but Arthur only smiled, an annoying smile which made Ethan's blood boil.

“Congrats to you for picking my leftover, dear cousin..” he grinned and Ethan's eyes turned crimson with rage, his fist balled.

Arthur got closer, then grabbed Ethan's shoulder, his eyes blazing with fury as he reminisced about the dirty messages Madelyn had sent to him.

A perfect bîtch!! That's who Ethan is proud to flex?

He leaned in, making sure his gaze locked with Ethan's, “Madelyn is a slut, and have I told you how wide her hole is? Bet you don't know,” he smirked, his eyes glistening with sarcasm.

“That’s why I said you picked my leftovers, Ethan. And can I tell you something?” he leaned closer, his breath hot against Ethan's neck.

“I call the bets, brother, and you're standing in my territory. You claim to own this place? Then let's see who owns the game,” Arthur stepped back from him and instantly, three security guards trooped in.

Arthur turned to them, eyes hollow,

“Bundle this trash out of my office.”