Chapter 235: Getting Marked
"Shall I take the car for repairs?" Axelrod asked carefully.
Fitzgerald did not answer immediately. Instead, he continued staring at his phone screen. The security footage was still playing, the clip repeating over and over again as Samantha Preston marched toward the Bentley and drove her heel straight through the door panel.
Axelrod wisely chose not to speculate about what was happening inside his boss’s mind. Years of employment had taught him that the less he knew about Fitzgerald Rathbourne’s thought process, the better he slept at night.
A series of notifications appeared on the screen. Several emails.
Fitzgerald’s eyes scanned them briefly.
Dorian Blackwood.
A smirk slowly appeared on his face.
Oh, he loved what Dorian was doing.
The man was intelligent, ambitious, and dangerous, yet somehow astonishingly easy to manipulate. Fitzgerald almost felt guilty taking advantage of it.
Almost.
After a while, he slipped the phone back into his pocket.
"Hire her."
Axelrod blinked.
"Sir?"
"Hire her," Fitzgerald repeated. "As my personal secretary."
A cold wave of panic immediately washed over Axelrod.
His personal secretary?
At present, Axelrod handled most of those responsibilities himself. In fact, he had always assumed his comfortable six-figure compensation package existed because he was effectively doing the work of both a personal assistant and a secretary. He had grown rather accustomed to spending within that income bracket and had absolutely no desire to discover whether his lifestyle could survive a demotion.
"But... she might not be qualified as a sec—"
The glare landed before he could finish the sentence.
Axelrod immediately shut his mouth. He enjoyed being employed.
Fitzgerald looked back at the damaged Bentley.
"Make her believe she’s being hired as the secretary to the CEO of this company," he said. "Not me."
Axelrod frowned slightly.
That made even less sense.
If that woman was supposed to become Fitzgerald’s personal secretary, why would she be hired under his proxy’s office instead? Then again, he had long ago learned that asking questions rarely improved a situation involving Fitzgerald Rathbourne.
The safest approach was always the same: do exactly what the boss wanted and trust that there was some terrifying logic behind it.
"I understand, sir."
In reality, he understood absolutely nothing.
What he did understand was that this had become personal, and he found himself genuinely pitying the woman who had chosen to wage war against a Bentley.
Fitzgerald opened the driver’s door.
Axelrod blinked.
He was driving it himself?
Most people would have sent the vehicle directly to a repair specialist. Fitzgerald, however, seemed determined to remain beside his wounded beloved.
The engine came alive. Just as the Bentley began rolling forward, Fitzgerald lowered the window.
"Make a generous offer," he said.
Axelrod nodded.
"And give her whatever she wants."
That made him pause.
Whatever she wants?
Fitzgerald’s gaze remained fixed ahead as he added, "I need her by my side for what’s to come."
Something about the way he said it made Axelrod’s stomach tighten. The words themselves were simple enough, but the certainty behind them was unsettling.
The window rolled back up. A moment later, the Bentley disappeared out of the garage.
Axelrod stood there for several seconds before Timothy who had pretended to leave, returned to his side.
Timothy was staring at the exit. Neither of them spoke immediately. Finally, Axelrod sighed.
"Do you think we should... warn her?"
Timothy considered the question seriously before shaking his head.
"No."
"Why not?"
A look that was suspiciously close to sympathy crossed Timothy’s face.
"Because if Fitzgerald has already decided he needs her by his side, warning her is probably too late."
Neither man found that answer particularly comforting.
After standing there for a few moments, Timothy finally turned and walked away. The moment he was alone, he pulled out his phone and sent a message.
[Fitzgerald has marked your fiancé’s niece, Samantha, for some reason. Ask her to be careful.]
The message sent almost immediately.
Timothy stared at the screen for a second before slipping the phone back into his pocket.
Whatever Fitzgerald was planning, he wanted no part in it.
By the time he reached his office, the unease had settled heavily in his chest. He closed the door behind him and walked toward his desk. For a few moments, he simply stood there, staring at the polished wood surface before unlocking one of the drawers.
Inside were photographs. Dozens of them. Pictures of his daughter at daycare. Pictures taken from a distance whenever an opportunity presented itself.
Timothy picked one up carefully. A bittersweet smile crossed his face.
Then he shuffled through the stack. Beneath the photographs of his daughter was another picture. The one he always ended up looking at.
Amelia.
His fingers lingered on the edges of the photograph.
She stood atop a cliff overlooking the ocean, one foot propped upon a boulder as though she had conquered the entire world. The wind had caught her hair, and there was something fierce and alive in her expression that made it impossible to look away.
He had stolen the image from her social media months ago. It was the only physical photograph of her he owned.
The only one he allowed himself.
Timothy leaned back in his chair and stared at it for a long moment.
God. He missed her. Not that she knew. Not that she would care. A weary sigh escaped him.
"If it means I have a chance with you..."
His thumb brushed gently across the edge of the photograph before he lifted it and pressed it against his lips.
"I’ll betray my brother."
The words sounded absurd. Dangerous. Perhaps even treasonous within the Rathbourne family.
Yet he meant every one of them.
A bitter smile appeared on his face.
"He’ll kill me for it, but..." His voice softened. "Just talk to me, Millie."
The office remained silent. Only the familiar ache remained.
Timothy lowered the photograph and stared at it for a few moments longer before letting out another quiet sigh.
For a man who could negotiate billion-dollar deals without hesitation, it was humiliating how completely helpless he became whenever Amelia entered his thoughts.
-----
"How did Samantha get into Rathbourne’s orbit?"
Maximilian showed Catherine the text Timothy had sent.
Catherine took the phone from him and quickly read the message.
A deep sigh escaped her.
Of all the people Fitzgerald Rathbourne could have noticed, why Samantha?
"I think she was looking for a job in Kingston," Catherine said, already reaching for her phone. "I’ll talk to her."
She immediately dialed Samantha’s number.
The call rang... and rang... and rang.
Long enough for Catherine’s anxiety to begin growing.
By the time the call finally connected, she was already imagining a dozen terrible possibilities.
"Sammy?"
The response was immediate.
And loud.
Comments