Engaged To The Tycoon

chapter 5

Therefore, he was anticipating my arrival with great excitement. That was... not something that I had anticipated at all. To tell you the truth, in my experience, powerful and affluent men were the ones who established their own timetables, and it was required of everyone else that they stick to those plans. It was a relief to find out that I wouldn't have to wait for an excessively long period of time. "louis thanks," I said. While she was rapidly inputting digits into the sleek numberpad that was positioned next to her computer, I searched the area for a place to sit down in the meantime.

She answered by saying, "Yes, Lucy Wayne is here to visit Mr. Waters," which was her response. The person on the other end of the line was mumbling something into the phone. The last thing she said before hanging up the phone was "Yes, thank you." She offered me a sparkling grin in response. "When you come, he will be there to meet and greet you. Without a doubt, the very top floor."

"Thanks," I murmured again, feeling lame. As I made my way down the corridor that was lined with towering elevator doors, I sidestepped the desk and the friendly receptionist who was standing behind it. They were reminiscent of something that might have been seen in an old silent science fiction picture. Definitely one of the unsettling dystopian ones to read. After pressing the button that unlocked the doors that led directly to the top, the doors opened themselves instantly after I clicked the button. I stepped inside. They closed the door behind me, and I felt a sudden tightening in my stomach, which was followed by an equally sudden release of tension.

When I was already inside the elevator and could plainly see that I was moving in the direction of actually seeing Silva Bryan, my nerves started to give out on me and I started to become very anxious. What was I thinking of at that very moment? Where had I possibly gotten myself into this mess? I should have torn up that contract and thrown it back in my father's face before deciding not to come here at all. I should have done that before I decided not to come here. I have the option of opening a credit line so that I can pay for the expenses associated with taking care of Mom medically. Could I pull it off? the same manner that absolutely everyone and their dog applied for credit cards and piled up ridiculously large sums of debt. I am competent to carry out such a task as well! And this would make it possible for me to declare bankruptcy! Everyone ends up in a better position!

Yes. That was going to be the course of action that I took. After raging at the millionaire for a time, I would eventually walk away, go back to my apartment, and put myself in such a precarious financial situation that I would be forced to file for bankruptcy. Hey, I just wanted to let you know that it was successful for my maternal grandfather.

As soon as I was hit with this insight, the elevator came to a screaming halt, and the doors threw themselves open in a wide arc. This has thrown me into a total loop.

The fact that both the top and the bottom of Silva Bryan' personal financial colossus included tremendous quantities of room was the only thing that these two sites had in common with one another. On the top floor of the building, which had previously been covered in brushed steel and slate in a dark gray color, white marble and gold were used as the flooring material. Previously, the top floor had been covered in brushed steel and slate. Everything in the room, from the white marble floor to the delicious dark brown leather furniture to the rich mahogany desk to the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling—a chandelier! in a corporate office!—spoke of tastes that were too luxurious for ordinary moral minds to comprehend. This included the chandelier.

Due to the fact that he bowed to me and continued to stand behind the desk, I had no choice but to conclude that the man behind the desk was Mr. Bryan's personal assistant. I literally knelt down and bent my knees. 100 %, with no conditions attached. It's possible that this approach was just a reflex for the corporation because they did a lot of business with the Spanish or with visiting members of Italian nobility. Simply put, this area was really intimidating. My hazy and distant memories of my father's offices were of stately grandeur, not of barebones modernity or garish opulence befitting of a spa weekend getaway. My memories of my father's offices were of stately grandeur, not of barebones modernity or garish opulence.

The man called the woman "Ms. Bryan" when he spoke to her. " You can call me Arthur if you like. Thank you. On the inside, Mr. Bryan will be very happy to see you when you get there. Then he indicated a set of double doors that were located on the right side of the room and were the same as the doors that were located on the left side of the room.

I had to force myself to keep a straight expression despite the fact that my stomach was in knots. I decided that I would not allow myself to be intimidated. The word "t**s" was my response to her question. I smiled to myself as I hurried by him and through the doors because I enjoyed seeing the shocked expression on his face as I did so.

The doors led to a another, significantly smaller foyer that could be discovered behind them. This room has significantly less extravagant decor than the others, with the primary focus points of the room's design consisting of simply a few zen fountains and a vast aquarium full with fish in a rainbow of colors. Two gigantic doors made of frosted glass stood in the middle of the wall on the side of the room that faced me in the opposite direction. On a modest and unpretentious name plaque, the only thing that was written was the word "Waters."

Before I opened the door, I took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on my breathing.

As he stood behind his desk and peered through one of the windows, Silva Bryan was taking in the sights of the London cityscape. As soon as I entered his office, he turned around and watched me make my way to the center of the space.

I didn't even look around. Depressingly, he was just as handsome in person as he was on magazine covers, and because I had been accustomed to seeing his face everywhere over the course of the preceding several years, I didn't even notice it anymore when I saw it everywhere. His emerald eyes shone brightly even when he was across the room, and his dark hair was styled in a way that was both messy and perfectly coiffed. His eyes were a striking combination of green and blue. The way the light fell on them was absolutely stunning, as if the entire universe had been orchestrated to draw attention to his stunning appearance. This gave the impression that the entire universe had been orchestrated to draw attention to his stunning appearance. His cheekbones were sharply defined and they framed a nose that was strong and straight. In contrast, his lips were full and sensual. He possessed a chin that was so pointed that it could cut through diamonds. And based on the ease with which he handled himself while still appearing exceedingly dapper, it was clear that he has the physique to match up with that confidence.

I could not bear to be in the same room with him. Some people, such as Silva Bryan, had the misconception that the earth was more similar to a photography studio than it was to a planet, and that everyone living on it was simply a sycophant who was attempting to persuade him to make out with the camera. To tell you the truth, the very first thought that crossed my mind was, "Man, I'm going to detest this man."

My second thought after that was, "Holy sh*t, he's hot," which was definitely not a positive reaction on my part. [Note:

The third and most disastrous idea that came to my mind was, "Those are some lips you could truly ride until morning."

Goddamn hormones. Since I had broken up with Darwin—no, that hadn't been his real name, and yes, he had been just as much of a douche as you would expect from a guy who willingly called himself Darwin—I hadn't gotten laid in the past six months, and it was starting to show. Yes, he had been just as much of a douche as you would expect from a guy who willingly called himself Darwin. Since I had broken up with Darwin, I hadn't gotten laid in Darwin hadn't been his real name, and yes, he had been just as much of a douche as you would expect from a guy who willingly called himself Darwin. Darwin hadn't been his real name, but he had chosen to go by that name.

This was done with my arms crossed over my chest. "What can you tell me about these reports that say we're going to get married?" I demanded.

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He appeared to be staring at me, but he did not respond in any way.

My words seemed to fly in all directions and fall to the ground with the sound of shattered pieces of cutlery. As he continued to study my features, it became increasingly obvious that this dashing gentleman was unlike any other. Even though there was a significant distance between us, I was still able to detect the magnetic charge that he was emitting. It was terrifying, excruciating, and tumultuous all at the same moment. Even when he was perfectly still, the strength of his personality far outweighed the attractiveness of his face. Even more so was this the case when he was smiling.

This was a man who, if he so chose, could hold the power to rule over the entire world. He possessed this ability.

You already know this. akin to the figure of the antichrist.

After what seemed like an eternity, he gave himself permission to smile. "Hello, Miss Wayne," he said to her as he greeted her.

I couldn't get the nagging sensation that I ought to have been sitting down instead. His voice sounded like... something that was extremely vile and ominous. Deep. If he had been singing, he could have produced a voice with the vast depths of a basso profundo if he had used his whole vocal range. It was the kind of voice to which one might listen while sitting on their speakers and cranking up the volume all the way to eleven. That does not mean that I have ever been guilty of doing something similar, of course...

Oh, yes, of course. Every proposal seems like a decent one when it's three in the morning and you've already had a few too many PBRs, is that something we can agree on? And if I had been able to save his voice on my computer in the form of a little file, I would have played that irritating thing again and over for a full sixty minutes of the day.

In an effort to improve my concentration, I gave myself a few shakes. "Yeah," I answered. “Hello.” I had to make a concerted effort to redirect my focus away from him and concentrate instead on examining his office in order to do so successfully.

Except that upon closer inspection, it turned out to be empty. At one end of the room was only his desk with his chair and his computer, and just to my left were two sofas arranged across from each other with a simple coffee table in between them. In the center of the room was a large picture window. The opposite side of the room was devoid of any occupants. The only thing that seemed to indicate that he was an individual was another small fountain that he had placed on the coffee table, with the water running over carefully plucked rocks. This was the only thing that stood out to me about him.

River stones were handled with a great deal of skill.

A ridiculously amused part of me wanted to giggle at the absurdity of the situation. It yelled "Waters!" at me, and all of a sudden, I had this wacky notion that Silva Bryan was the same as boring Darwin in his later years, albeit with more charisma. Suddenly, I had this notion that Silva Bryan was the same as boring Darwin in his later years. He'd finally decided on a name for himself—one that was undeniably more imposing—and after that, he'd made it his mission to take over the entire globe. Anyone observant enough to figure out what the fountains were trying to say would have picked up on the hint.