Chapter 9
Tiffany
I grip the steering wheel and consider my options.
To fully comprehend the current situation, I’ll have to sort through all of Dean’s scattered paperwork and notes littered around my living room. Unfortunately, that could take an immense amount of time—a luxury I can’t afford right now.
And Adrien… he is most likely still in the city.
The thought of seeking comfort and aid from him after everything that has happened between us causes me to consider seeing a therapist. It’s clear that I need someone to bring me back to reality.
But he knows far more about my uncle’s business than I do—he’s been involved in it for years, after all.
All of this is just a pretext to see him again. I want him. I miss him. I’m delusional enough to believe that he can fix everything, that he’ll swoop in and save me like some kind of dark knight.
There’s no hope for me in getting over him, so I might as well embrace the chaos.
My heart overrules my head, as it always does when it comes to Adrien, and with a shaky breath, I search for the address of Leroy Holdings office, which happens to only be a short fifteen-minute drive away.
After a last glance at my phone to confirm the location, I fumble with the keys, struggling to start the car. My hands tremble, and it takes three tries before the engine finally roars to life.
The streets blur past as I weave through traffic, my foot heavy on the accelerator. Every red light feels like an eternity, every slow driver an obstacle in my path. My eyes dart constantly to the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see someone following me.
“Come on, come on,” I urge the cars in front of me, my fingers tapping an anxious rhythm on the steering wheel.
What if he’s not there? What if he’s left the country? I give a voice to one of my many fears. What if he refuses to see me?
Finally, I spot the sleek, modern facade of the Leroy Holding building towering over the bustling city. The glass exterior reflects the bustling cityscape, while the sharp edges and clean lines make you feel like a speck in the grand scheme of things.
I pull into the parking lot, maneuvering my car into an empty space. I kill the engine and close my eyes, trying to center myself.
In, out. In, out.
My heartbeat slows a fraction, but the urgency still thrums through my veins. With one last steadying breath, I open my eyes and reach for the door handle.
The cool air hits me as I step out of the car. I smooth down my clothes, aware of how disheveled I must look after the frantic drive. But there’s no time to worry about appearances now.
As I approach the building’s entrance, my reflection in the glass doors catches my eye. I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me—her eyes wide with fear and determination, her posture tense and ready for action. I have blood on the side of my face from where my head slammed against the steering wheel.
It’s not the best look, but I can’t afford to waste time getting cleaned up. It’ll have to do.
I push through the doors, entering the lobby. It’s a familiar sight—polished marble floors, sleek furniture, and a sea of serious faces. The lobby is bustling with activity, but I barely register the other people as I make a beeline for the administrator’s desk. An elegant woman in a sharp business suit greets me with a well-polished smile and a disapproving expression. “Good morning, miss. May I help you?”
“Yes, please.” I take a deep breath to steady my voice. “I’m here to see Mr. Leroy. Urgent matter.”
The administrator’s eyebrows raise at my request. “Do you have an appointment, Miss...?”
He hasn’t left yet.
“Tiffany,” I supply. “And no, I don’t have an appointment, but please—it’s urgent.”
The woman looks at my stained blouse and bloody face. Her expression softens, but she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Miss Tiffany, but I’m afraid I can’t reach Mr. Leroy at the moment. He’s in an important meeting and has requested not to be disturbed.”
My heart sinks, but I refuse to give up. I lean in closer and say, “Please, you don’t understand. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t critical.”
“I’m sorry, miss, but without more information or proper clearance, I can’t interrupt Mr. Leroy’s schedule.”
“There has to be something you can do.”
The administrator studies me for a moment, her brow furrowed. The internal struggle plays out on her face. At last, she sighs and nods. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try to reach Mr. Leroy’s assistant. Perhaps she can help.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, stepping back from the desk to give her some privacy.
“Yes, this is Sandra from the front desk,” the administrator says. “I have a young woman here, Tiffany, insisting on speaking with Mr. Leroy. She says it’s urgent—a matter of life and death.”
I stop pacing and turn to face her, straining to hear the other side of the conversation. My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them on my dress.
“I understand,” she continues. “Yes, I’ll let her know. Thank you.”
My eyes snap open, searching her face for any clue about the outcome. The seconds stretch into an eternity as I wait for her to finish the call, my heart pounding in my ears.
The administrator sets down the phone. “I’ve spoken with Mr. Leroy’s assistant. She understands the urgency of your request.”
I grip the edge of her desk. “And? Will he see me?”
She extends the phone towards me. “She would like to speak with you.”
My hand trembles as I take the phone. This is it. My chance to make Adrien understand, to get the help I so desperately need.
I bring the receiver to my ear. “Hello?”
“This is Diane, Mr. Leroy’s executive assistant,” a crisp, professional voice responds over the phone. Her voice is sweet with a slight foreign accent, but I recognize the sharpness underneath. I’m sure that she’s tough as nails. Any woman working with Adrien has to be. “I understand you have an urgent matter to discuss with Mr. Leroy. Can you provide me with more details about the nature of your request?”
“I need to discuss urgent business with Mr. Leroy.”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Leroy has strict guidelines for visitors, and he’s currently in a meeting. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”
“I... I can’t explain everything over the phone, but please, I need to speak with Adrien in person. It’s urgent and could have serious consequences for a lot of people, including him.”
Diane’s silence on the other end of the line is deafening. I can almost hear the gears turning in her head as she weighs my vague explanation against the urgency in my voice.
“Miss Tiffany...?” she prompts.
“Carter. Tiffany Carter.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath, and I wonder if my name means something to her. Does Adrien talk about me?
“Miss Carter,” Diane says, her tone softening. “Mr. Leroy’s schedule is extremely tight, but given the circumstances... I’ll see what I can do.”
My heart leaps. “Thank you, Diane. I really appreciate it.”
“Please wait a moment,” she says, and I hear the muffled sounds of her speaking to someone else.
I drum my fingers on the desk, aware of the administrator’s curious glances. The seconds tick by like hours.
With a deep breath, I prepare myself for a potentially long wait.