The Billionaire Who Claimed Me: Our Love Is Destined Forever

The Interview at Harrington's Group

The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of Taylor’s modest apartment, casting golden streaks across the wooden floor. The persistent ringing of her cellphone jolted her awake. She blinked against the brightness, her fingers fumbling for the device on the nightstand. With a sleepy sigh, she pressed the phone to her ear, her voice still thick with drowsiness.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end was crisp, polished, and unmistakably professional. "Greetings, Taylor Williams. This is a representative from Harrington’s Group. You have been scheduled for an interview at 11:00 AM today. Please ensure you arrive on time."

Taylor’s heart skipped a beat. She sat up straighter, suddenly wide awake. "Yes, I will be there. Thank you." The call ended abruptly, leaving her staring at the screen. She exhaled, a slow smile spreading across her face. Harrington’s Group—her first choice, the company she had dreamed of interning with since she first saw their sleek, modern headquarters in the city’s financial district.

A quick glance at the clock revealed it was only 8:30 AM. She had time. Pushing the blankets aside, she padded to the window. The sky was a clear, cloudless blue, the sun already high and promising a warm, radiant day. She could feel the optimism bubbling within her. Today could be the day her career began.

By 10:45 AM, Taylor stood in the waiting area of Harrington’s Group, her black formal skirt and white blouse immaculately pressed, her half-coat jacket draped neatly over her shoulders. The black heels she wore were not designer, but they were polished, and she carried herself with a quiet confidence. Around her, five other interviewees sat in the plush grey chairs, their expressions a mix of nervousness and determination. The office itself was a testament to luxury—cream-white walls contrasted with dark grey accents, the air scented faintly with the crisp, clean aroma of wealth.

A woman entered the room, her presence commanding yet warm. "Taylor Williams?"

Taylor’s pulse quickened. "Yes, that’s me."

The woman smiled, her blue suit tailored to perfection, a Harrington’s Group badge clipped to her lapel. "I’m Amelia Rolands. I’ll be escorting you to the interview room." Her makeup was flawless, her demeanor polished, and Taylor couldn’t help but admire the poise with which she carried herself.

The interview itself was not as daunting as Taylor had feared. The questions were thorough but fair, and she answered them with a clarity that surprised even herself. However, as the interview concluded, the panel informed her that she would need to wait for their call. "If two days pass without any communication, you may consider the interview unsuccessful," they said.

Taylor left the building at noon, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. She had done her best. Now, all she could do was wait.

The bus stop was crowded, the midday sun beating down on the pavement. Taylor’s phone rang again, this time from within her bag. She fished it out, her face lighting up as she saw the caller ID.

"Hi, Lilly."

Lilly’s voice was warm, playful. "Hello, Taylor! I’m at a café right across from Harrington’s Group, and I can see you waiting at the bus stop. If you have time, come join me for lunch!"

Taylor turned, her brown eyes scanning the street. Sure enough, a quaint café sat just past the road, its outdoor seating shaded by umbrellas. "Oh, I’d love to! I’m starving." She crossed the street, her heels clicking softly against the pavement.

Lilly was already on her feet when Taylor entered, her arms outstretched for a hug. Taylor embraced her warmly, the scent of Lilly’s perfume—something floral and sophisticated—filling the air. "Wow, my meeting just ended, and I was about to order lunch when I spotted you," Lilly said, grinning as they settled into their seats.

They ordered quickly, opting for light, flavorful dishes perfect for a midday meal. As they waited, a waiter brought them cocktails, the glasses beaded with condensation.

"So, Taylor, are you working at Harrington’s Group now?" Lilly asked, swirling her drink thoughtfully.

Taylor shook her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Not yet. I was there for an internship interview."

Lilly’s eyes widened. "Oh! So you’re still a student? That explains why you’re so young—and so beautiful." She chuckled, but there was a hint of sadness in her tone. "I’m glad you’re smiling now. That day I found you crying, I thought maybe a party would help you forget your troubles, but…" She trailed off, her expression apologetic. "I couldn’t even protect you properly. I was too drunk myself."

Taylor reached across the table, squeezing Lilly’s hand. "It’s okay. What’s done is done. I’m over it." She hesitated, then added, "Though Brandon still won’t leave me alone. He came to my apartment yesterday, begging me to take him back. He says the engagement is still on."

Lilly’s jaw dropped. "My God, he’s shameless!"

Across the café, a tall, well-built man in a black suit entered, his presence immediately drawing attention. He moved with the confidence of someone accustomed to command, his assistant trailing discreetly behind him. The man—Charles Harrington—exuded an aura of power, his sharp features and piercing gaze marking him as someone of high status.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Harrington. It’s my greatest pleasure," the client at his table said, shaking his hand eagerly.

Charles nodded, his mind elsewhere. As he settled into his seat, his eyes flickered toward Taylor’s table. Taylor. The name echoed in his mind. He had spent the previous night with her, though their encounter had been fleeting, almost surreal. There was something about her—something that tugged at a memory he couldn’t quite place.

"So, Mr. Harrington, shall we begin discussing the project?" the client asked, opening his laptop.

Charles forced his attention back to the screen. "Yes, let’s proceed. I don’t have much time—I have another meeting in an hour."

As the discussion unfolded, Charles found his gaze drifting toward Taylor again and again. His assistant, Jack Hoods, noticed but said nothing.

"Brandon is still pestering her?" Charles thought, his brow furrowing. He had overheard snippets of Taylor and Lilly’s conversation. "How does a young student like her know Lilly Smith, the CEO of Smith’s Enterprises?" The connection puzzled him.

The business meeting concluded swiftly. The client rose, bowing slightly. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Harrington. Goodbye."

Charles nodded, his mind still clouded. He had transferred five million to Taylor’s account the previous night—a gesture of gratitude for their time together, a way to compensate her for the unexpected intimacy they had shared. But he couldn’t be with her, not when he was still searching for the love of his life, the woman he had spent six years trying to find.

"President, your next meeting begins in twenty minutes," Jack Hoods reminded him.

Charles stood, his eyes lingering on Taylor one last time. There was something about her—something that felt like a lost piece of himself. But he couldn’t dwell on it. Not now.

Lilly glanced at her watch, her expression turning apologetic. "I have to go, Taylor. There’s so much work waiting for me at the office. I hope your interview goes well—good luck!" She stood, pulling Taylor into another warm embrace.

Taylor hugged her back, gratitude swelling in her chest. "Thank you, Lilly. You’re wonderful."

They parted ways—Lilly to her company, Taylor to her apartment. As Taylor walked, she couldn’t shake the feeling that today had been more than just an interview. It had been a day of unexpected connections, of lingering glances, and of possibilities she couldn’t yet name.