“Cancel.” He ordered strictly, striding into the building, his presence alone enough to silence any greetings thrown his way. His steps were measured, precise, as he headed straight to the elevator.
Fleur kept pace beside him, flipping through his digital schedule on a tablet.
“Yes sir.” He replied, swiping up in more schedules.
“You have dinner with some investors at seven,” Fleur started, keeping pace with Arthur’s long strides.
Arthur barely glanced at him. “How significant are they?”
“Not very,” Fleur admitted. “They’re just looking to align themselves with your name for personal gain.”
“Cancel it,” Arthur ordered coldly, stepping into his personal elevator.
Fleur barely nodded before continuing, “Your father also set up a date—”
A sharp, cutting look from Arthur was enough to
