CHAPTER 002
1357 Words
CHAPTER 002
At the end of a long, polished boardroom table, sat Eleanor Harrington. It was a thick air of tension, and in her ears, the soft hum of the overhead lights. Protruding around her were the board members (supposed allies of her family) squirming uncomfortably and avoiding her eyes. Arms crossed, her perfectly combed silver haired uncle George, leaned back comfortably in his very British looking chair. He didn’t really wear his mask, rather his expression was one of indifference, but Ellie could see the glint of a frostier emotion from his eyes.
Her voice trembled but was steady as she cleared her throat. “Let’s cut to the chase. What’s happening with Harrington Holdings?”
An awkward heavy pause followed. Her father’s long time advisor, Miriam, adjusted her glasses and hesitated. 'Ellie,’ he said, ‘this is… bloody dire.’ ‘The company is on the verge of insolvency.’”
Ellie’s stomach twisted. “How bad?”
Another pause. George too leaned forward this time, a smile on his lips. The creditors are circling like vultures, and that’s bad enough. We have weeks, maybe less.”
Murmurs erupted in the room. An angry Ellie silenced them with a hand slam on the table. “Why wasn’t I told sooner?”
Miriam jerked but was strong enough to shake it off. “Before his accident, your father thought he could handle it.” ‘We didn’t want to overwhelm you while you were grieving,’ they said.”
“Grieving?” Ellie shot back. “That was months ago. ‘You should have told me then,’ he said.”
A low, mocking sound, George chuckled. You couldn’t have done anything about it anyway. ‘You’re not exactly a financial wizard, Ellie.’”
Her cheeks burned. “Uncle George this is the legacy of my family." Don’t you dare pretend I don’t care.”
George shrugged. “Care all you want. It won’t change the numbers.”
Ellie’s fists clenched together under the table. “So what’s the plan? Or is there one?”
But Miriam’s voice softened, almost apologetic. Someone — a buyer — might come in and save the company. The terms would be... complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
Before he could get a word out of Miriam, George chimed in. “Don’t sugarcoat it.” The buyer wants to be in control. “They’ll take the company and leave you with nothing.”
Ellie’s heart sank. “Nothing?”
‘Not a penny,’ he said, almost gleefully. “Or bankruptcy,” he said.
Ellie tried to process his words, and the room blurred for a moment. The chair scraping loudly, she stood abruptly. “I need some air.”
Clicked sharply on the marble floor with her heels and without waiting for a response, she stormed out. She didn’t stop until she got to her father’s old office.
It smelled slightly of leather and old wood; painful reminders of his presence. Behind her the door closed and Ellie pressed her back against it, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
Her eyes landed on his desk, she scanned the room. The drawers hung slightly open as if they were being searched through. Ellie frowned and came closer. She pulled open the largest drawer, and a mess of papers spilled out. In the chaos was a folder labeled ‘Whitmore.’
She didn't know whether the campers would accept a toy bruin from their almost missing sidekick, but her fingers trembled and she opened it. Spilling out were contracts, letters, meeting notes, the name Sebastian Whitmore on each. The name was whispered in hushed tones at society events, it was familiar. Ruthless. Powerful. Dangerous.
Why had her father been dealing with him?
Unease was growing now with each page; Ellie sifted through the papers. The last letter, dated just weeks before her father’s death, was a cryptic warning: *“Do not trust him. You don’t know what’s at stake.”*
A chill ran down her spine. The faint sound of footsteps echoed outside the door and she was about to dig deeper. She clutched the folder to her chest and froze.
“Ellie?” a voice called. It was Miriam.
Ellie exhaled and cracked opened the door. “What is it?”
Miriam’s eyes darted around in nervousness, her face was nearly white. It’s not safe for you to stay here too late. At night all this feels... different.”
Ellie frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Miriam hesitated. “Just be careful, alright?”
Miriam hurried on without pausing, before Ellie could ask her more she was alone in the silence. Her unease was growing, so she shut the door and locked it. She decided to search the archives in the basement, the folder still in her hands. If her father had left clues, they would be there.
The steps to the basement creaked under each step. Ellie descended, and the air grew colder, heavier. The dim bulb barely lit the rows of dusty shelves, and she flipped on the light.
Her dad’s careful handwriting directed her scan of the labels. At the back of the room, she finally found a locked cabinet. She remembered how he had a key to the office taped on the back of a picture frame in his office and as she remembered that, a strange sense of dread settled over her.
She slid the key into the lock and turned it. The cabinet creaked open and inside was a single envelope. In her father’s handwriting, her name was scrawled across it.
She opened it and her hands shook. The letter inside was short, but its contents were devastating:
*If you’re reading this, Ellie, I’m sorry. I made a mistake. He’s not just a businessman. He’s something else, something dangerous. Stay away from him. Protect yourself. And if you can, forgive me.*
She folded the letter, slipped it into her pocket, and her tears blurred her vision. Breaking glass snapped her out of her thoughts.
Her heart pounded, she spun around. She called her voice trembling, 'Hello?'
No answer.
She crept upstairs and grabbed a heavy paperweight from the desk. Now silence enveloped her, each floorboard creak was making her flinch. The front door was wide open when she reached the foyer. The scent of rain came in with cold air.
There was a shadow near the doorway. Ellie raised the paperweight, struggling to breathe.
A deep voice said, “Easy there.” He stepped into the light, the new figure had sharp features and piercing blue eyes. It was Sebastian Whitmore.
He spoke smoothly, but commanded. “Miss Harrington.” “We need to talk.”
She lowered the paperweight, but didn’t relax. “How did you get in here?”
Sebastian smirked. “Your security is... lacking,” he said.
Her jaw tightened. “What do you want?”
His presence was overwhelming, and he stepped closer. “I want to help you.”
Ellie scoffed. “Help? You’ve got to be joking.”
He hardened his expression and said, “I’m serious.” “Harrington Holdings is failing,” he said. I can save it.”
Suspicion laced her voice, “Why would you do that?”
He admitted, “Because it benefits me.” “But it also benefits you. It was a marriage of convenience, think about it. You keep your family’s legacy intact, and I get what I need.”
Her mind raced, Ellie stared at him. It was an absurd idea, but his confidence that made such an absurd idea almost sound reasonable. Almost.
“And if I refuse?” she asked.
Sebastian’s eyes darkened. “Then you lose everything.”
His words weight settled over her like a storm cloud. Ellie’s chest tightened, she knew the choice wasn’t a choice.
He said low and deliberate, “Decide quickly, Eleanor.” “The clock is ticking.”
Her pulse roaring in her ears, she stared at him. Was this what she’d been looking for the whole time, or the start of an even worse nightmare?
What would she do?
- Writer
