EVERLASTING (Charlotte's Story)

Chapter 90/237: Not the same Secretary from the Rooftop

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I hardened my gaze at the tyrant before me.

A sense of relief, which I'm not going to lie about, washed over me as I saw Filberto Roman held over the shoulder of one of the two bodyguards behind him.

Bile rose to my throat again, noting that they were blocking my way out of the room.

I clenched my teeth, who was I kidding? It's not like I could make a run for it even if the door was wide open. They'd shoot me dead roasted like an auctioned shooting target.

Wetting my lips, I kept my gaze fixed into those of the father, "I thought you were supposed to be travelling, Chairman Ellington?" I spat, seeing no point in maintaining my Daisy attitude.

Especially given his last statement, which clearly mirrored a previous one he'd directed at me...

Back on the rooftop.

'You don't shed those tears over my son because you're a mere loyal secretary, Charlotte Thorne. But because, to put it in ludicrous and poetic phrasing, you have fallen in love with Rickard, no?'

That goddamn cursed rooftop.

He didn't flinch, despite all the smoke starting to fog the room and the clear fire cracking being heard as the fire ate the rest of the estate, nearing the room inevitably.

"I give it to you, Charlotte Thorne."

I shuddered at the name, as his beads of steel glinted, precariously with so much unconcealed darkness.

"You are indeed such a muse."

My eyes widened, as I, for a split of a second, could swear I'd seen something which... resembled... admiration...? –in his overbearing gaze.

"For a woman who, when I researched her back in her first days as my son's private assistant, seemed like nothing notable and would probably be out of the picture in a week or two..." His voice came, reeking with saturated authority.

"You have put on a rather prolonged and unforeseen fight, I might say you've outsmarted yourself."

An electric-like shock crossed my body, especially at the unhinged or concealed mockery and obnoxiousness present in his statement.

"Cheh!" I clenched my teeth, my look hardening madly in his direction as he hit one of my nerves, especially after what I've seen most recently at his office. "Unforeseen, eh?!" I snapped.

"You didn't expect this underprivileged, low-class, naïve secretary to come back seeking her father's justice?!"

Shivers started crossing my body, and the revolver on my thigh started itching to be pulled in a clear reminiscence of my encounter with the man before me on the rooftop.

"You..." I writhed, like my own flesh was tearing at my loathsomeness of the word, "You coordinated everything that led my father to his fate with Van Darco." I accused, my tone hardening as my voice shook with sheer grudge and grief. "Me being the price for my father's debt in gambling... The events of Tottenham... They were all strings you pulled."

Composedly eyeing his watch, he didn't seem much interested by what I was saying, which only tickled my buttons harder.

Driving me so mad with a blind want to avenge my father.

Some silent seconds passed, before he looked back and up in my direction, his expression unfazed and still as inhumane as ever. "Ah, that was directed at me."