His two hands were buried deep inside his pockets as he watched a lone figure slowly walk toward the gate with just a suitcase in her hand.
Lena walked for more than thirty minutes under the scorching sun, making her way to the gate step by step. Earlier, she had refused to go with any of the drivers, deciding not to use any of Raymond’s cars.
Since he said she should get out of his life, that was exactly what she would do.
Hence began the long and rigorous journey to the gate.
When she finally reached it, the security guards exchanged surprised glances before quickly opening the gate without asking any questions.
They had clearly recognized her but chose to remain silent.
Lena had already called Sylvia for help.
When she stepped outside the gate, she found a small place to sit and waited quietly.
Soon Sylvia arrived.
She hurriedly stepped out of the car, her eyes widening in shock the mont she saw the state Lena was in.
"What happened?" she asked urgently as she rushed forward and engulfed Lena in a tight hug before pulling away slightly to look at her face hidden behind the big goggles.
"You were right about Raymond," Lena whispered weakly.
That was all she could say before Sylvia pulled her into another hug.
"It’s okay," Sylvia said softly. "Don’t say anything. Let’s get you ho."
Lena nodded silently.
Sylvia helped her place the suitcase into the car boot before guiding her gently into the passenger seat. Monts later, Sylvia got behind the wheel and drove away, leaving the mansion and all its painful mories far behind them.
The following day, after Lena left, had been nothing short of hell for Raymond.
The silence in the mansion felt suffocating. He had dismissed all the maids from the main house, ordered Liam not to disturb him, and locked himself away. The once lively house now felt cold and empty, its quietness echoing his restless thoughts.
Damon’s words kept replaying in his mind like a
broken record.
"You love her."
Raymond scoffed every ti the words surfaced, yet they refused to leave him alone. Deep down, he knew he didn’t love Lena. He had convinced himself of that fact long ago. Their relationship had always been convenient, sothing simple and predictable.
So why did Damon’s statent rattle him so much?
Why did it feel like soone had struck a nerve he didn’t know existed?
The more he tried to suppress the thought, the louder it beca.
Raymond spent the rest of the day drinking and brooding in his study. Empty bottles gradually lined the table beside him as the hours crawled by. By nightfall, he had made a firm decision.
He would stop thinking about Lena.
He would focus on work, just like he always did.
Work had always been the easiest way for him to forget things.
But even that plan proved impossible.
Whenever he opened his phone or checked the internet, pictures of him and Lena appeared everywhere, photos from the auction event, the shopping and the spa date, including the interviews where they had posed together like the perfect couple.
Every single image felt like a mockery.
Frustration surged through him until he finally lost his temper.
"Why did she have to destroy what we had?" he muttered bitterly.
In a fit of anger, he hurled his phone across the room. The device crashed against the wall and shattered into pieces.
The following morning, Raymond woke up with a dull headache but a clear mind.
He stood before the mirror and dressed himself carefully, his usual cold composure slowly returning. A perfectly tailored suit hugged his broad fra, and he adjusted his cufflinks with practiced ease. His glasses rested neatly on the bridge of his nose, giving him the sharp, intimidating appearance most people associated with him.
Taking his cane, he walked downstairs.
The house was still quiet.
Raymond moved into the kitchen, brewed himself a cup of coffee, and drank it slowly while staring out the window. The early morning sunlight poured into the room, but it did little to warm his mood.
After finishing the coffee, he headed outside.
Today, he decided to drive himself to work.
He got into his sleek rcedes-Benz and started the engine. The car purred smoothly as he pulled out of the driveway and drove toward Black Corporation headquarters.
By the ti he arrived, Liam was already waiting.
As soon as Raymond stepped into his office, Liam followed him inside with a tablet in hand.
"Good morning, sir," Liam greeted professionally before beginning his report. "You have a board eting scheduled in twenty minutes, a conference call with the Shanghai investors this afternoon, and a project review for the new shopping plaza."
Raymond listened quietly.
Liam, however, kept his tone neutral and avoided unnecessary conversation. He knew Raymond well enough to recognize when his boss was in a dangerous mood.
And today was definitely one of those days.
Liam had a rough idea of what had happened between Raymond and Lena, but he chose to remain silent. For now, it was better to mind his own business.
Soon it was ti for the eting.
Raymond stood up from his chair, buttoned his suit jacket, adjusted his cufflinks once more, and walked toward the eting hall with slow, asured steps.
The mont he entered the room, everyone inside fell silent.
All the departnt heads were already seated around the long conference table, waiting anxiously.
Raymond walked to the head of the table and sat down.
To his left sat his father, Gerald Black, and his younger brother, Lucas.
Raymond didn’t even acknowledge their presence.
He simply acted as though they weren’t there.
The eting began shortly after.
The design departnt team stood up to present a proposal for the company’s newest developnt project, a massive shopping plaza planned for the city center.
One of the presenters stepped forward and switched on the large smart TV mounted on the wall.
The screen lit up with architectural blueprints and 3D models of the proposed structure.
The presenter cleared his throat nervously.
"Sir, our aim is to develop a modern shopping
plaza that houses multiple departntal stores belonging to several top global brands."
He gestured toward the screen as slides changed.
"Imagine multiple luxury brands operating under one roof. The competition between brands will attract more custors, increasing both traffic and overall revenue."
The room remained silent as everyone listened.
"We have already contacted several designer companies," the presenter continued, "and many of them have expressed strong interest in partnering with us."
"So it will be a collaborative project between our company and the participating brands."
Raymond leaned back slightly in his chair.
"What are the investnt terms?" he asked calmly.
The presenter nodded quickly.
"Yes, sir. Each partner brand will invest ten percent at the beginning of the project and continue with a twenty percent contribution during later developnt stages."
Raymond nodded once.
"I want a detailed budget and a projected profit report on my desk by the end of the day," he said.
"Yes, sir."
The presenter continued nervously.
"Sir, we also plan to include a playground area for children so they can relax and play while their parents shop."
Raymond’s expression remained unreadable.
Then he spoke again.
"How do you plan to regulate visitors who co only to use the playground without buying anything?"
The room fell silent.
"Or," Raymond continued, his voice colder now,
"Are we planning to provide a free playground for the entire city?"
The presenter froze.
His mouth opened, but no words ca out.
"I’m sorry, sir," he finally stamred. "I didn’t think about that aspect."
Raymond’s eyes turned icy.
"This is your project pitch," he said slowly. "And you are telling you didn’t think that far?"
The tension in the room thickened.
"I am not paying you to be incompetent," Raymond continued sharply. "The next ti you stand before with a half-baked proposal, I will fire you on the spot."
"Brother Raymond, isn’t that too harsh?" Lucas suddenly interjected. "You’ll make the employees uncomfortable, and they won’t perform well."
Raymond slowly smiled.
This was exactly what he had been waiting for.
"I don’t recall asking for your opinion," he replied coolly.
Lucas stiffened.
"You’re the project manager, aren’t you?" Raymond continued. "Why don’t you give us a progress report on the ongoing projects under your supervision?"
Lucas’s face changed imdiately.
"You can’t do this," he said quickly. "Grandfather won’t like it."
"Grandfather doesn’t run Black Corporation," Raymond replied coldly. "I do."
The entire room fell silent.
"As your boss, I’m asking for a report. Since you can’t provide one right now, you have until the end of the day to submit a comprehensive report, including the financial records of those projects."
His voice dropped another degree colder.
"If I don’t receive it by then, you can say goodbye to your job."
Gerald slamd his hand on the table angrily.
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