Chapter 5 The Engagement
927 Words
Lancelot stood in front of the elevator with one hand casually in his pocket, his gaze lifting indifferently until his eyes met hers.
'Those familiar deep eyes, a sharp nose, and a cool, unsmiling mouth...' He was dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit over a crisp white shirt. The top button was left undone, revealing a hint of collarbone.
In just a year's time, his features had sharpened, becoming more mature and striking.
Even with his neutral expression, he looked captivating.
But only Florence knew the true nature hidden beneath that handsome face. He was nothing but a cold-hearted businessman.
Her gaze held a wary focus on his face. She scanned him as if waiting to see what he'd say next.
The tension was thick until Daisy, sensing the unease, hurried over to introduce Florence. She leaned close, whispering, "This is Mr. Lancelot Foster, CEO of the Foster Group and the newest shareholder in Evergreen Group. Mr. Foster, this is..."
"No need for introductions," Lancelot interrupted smoothly, eyes drifting off Florence as he looked at Daisy with a faint, mocking smile. "We know each other quite well."
Daisy froze, glancing between them in confusion. Before Florence could respond, Lancelot took her by the arm and pulled her away from the corridor without a word. He dragged her into the stairwell and closed the door with a resounding thud.
He advanced toward her, and Florence looked up at him with a challenging glare.
"What now, Mr. Foster?" she asked coolly. "Is there something you can't say in public? Does it really have to be in a hidden corner like this?"
"Ms. Hawthorne..." Lancelot spoke her name slowly, his gaze piercing. A moment later, he pushed her against the wall, their faces inches apart, breaths mingling in the narrow space.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you? Where were you all this time?" he demanded, his voice edged with frustration and bewilderment. "It's been a year, Florence. Now you're suddenly a CEO? Don't you think you owe me an explanation?"
Florence sneered. Though pressed against the wall, she showed no sign of fear at his actions.
Her eyes blazed with defiance and disdain. "By what right are you questioning me? Where I've been or what I've done is none of your business!"
Florence raised her foot, slamming it down on his, forcing him to release her with a pained grunt.
She gave him a light shove as if brushing off something unpleasant and even dusted her hands theatrically.
"Mr. Foster," she continued coolly, "I am Ms. Hawthorne in this building. I suggest you get that straight. I am no one to you, nor do you mean anything to me. And if you can't tell people apart, perhaps you should get your eyes checked at a hospital."
"Florence Hawthorne!" he growled, regaining his composure. His face twisted with the sting of pain, and his eyes flashed with anger. "Don't push me too far," he said.
"Oh? I thought you had mistaken me for someone else..." Florence climbed a step on the staircase, bringing her face level with his, her elegant features highlighted under the stairwell light. "After all, you have so many indiscretions to keep track of. Try not to mix me up with your other lovers."
Lancelot wanted to touch her face, but she slapped his hand away.
"Hands off, Mr. Foster," she warned. "If you're here for business, I'm all ears. Otherwise, please leave."
Lancelot's jaw tightened, his words coming through clenched teeth. "You really have changed."
"Thank you." Florence turned on her heel and pushed open the stairwell door. Her assistant was waiting there.
"What was that all about?" Daisy whispered, noting Florence's calm face and then glancing at Lancelot, who was suddenly limping. But she remembered when he'd arrived, he'd walked perfectly fine.
Lancelot forced himself to walk straight, catching up and blocking Florence's path. "Ms. Hawthorne," he said, managing a taut smile, "don't forget our collaboration."
Florence met his gaze with a cold smile. "I won't."
Their eyes met again, hers icy and aloof. There was no trace of softness in her expression.
Florence only said that. She wanted nothing to do with him, but ignoring him entirely was impossible in business. The Evergreen Group project, the one she'd bet so much on, was tied to him, the very person she despised.
She couldn't help but frown in distaste.
Unexpectedly, Lancelot gave a light, humorless laugh and held out his hand. "Ms. Hawthorne," he said, his tone attempting to ease the tension, "looking forward to a profitable partnership."
'Partnership? I'd pull the contract back in a heartbeat if I could!' Florence thought, barely restraining the urge to retract the entire contract right then and there. But she had to live with her choice. Evergreen Group was a prize bait, a fresh lure to catch an even bigger fish.
He seemed almost to mock her, emphasizing the title Ms. Hawthorne as if her new position were somehow amusing to him.
After Florence's near-drowning, her grandfather, Benjamin, had pulled strings to have her swiftly rescued and brought to the finest hospital in Helvanor to recover. After giving birth, she had assumed her role as CEO of Hawthorne Group, thinking that by immersing herself in business, she'd avoid crossing paths with Lancelot.
'But fate had other plans.'
Gathering herself, Florence took his hand briefly.
Their fingers touched for a fleeting moment, and she quickly released him, though she felt a strange warmth as Lancelot's thumb brushed her hand just before letting go.
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