Page 58 of Chandelier Enthralled
Henry and Cameron didn’t need the press to enhance their images. They had proven themselves time and again, never relying on the media to bolster their reputations. Henry, with his distinguished military background and relentless drive, had propelled Cole Tea into the twenty-first century with soaring profits. Meanwhile, Cameron had earned widespread respect through his impressive philanthropic efforts, both for the company and his personal causes.
I felt like a distant star to the towering figures of my high-achieving brothers, still a long way from even grazing the edges of their accomplishments.
Heading out of Julia’s office, I made my way down the hallway, admiring the walls filled with photos of previous presenters over the years. This floor was dedicated to those who’d climbed to the heady height of executive status.
At some point, they’d had to become cut-throat. I wasn’t sure I had it in me.
Stepping into the elevator, I turned and hit the DOWN button.
Oh, God.
I suppressed a cringe when Chad, the mailroom guy, came scurrying toward the elevator doors.
I punched the DOWN button again, pretending not to see him. Chad launched himself at the doors, quickly joining me in the small space.
He hugged several envelopes to his chest. “What a surprise to see you here.”
Annoyance twisted in my gut that he’d again triggered me. I inhaled slowly and resisted the urge to argue.
He hit all the buttons that led down to my floor. It was immature, but I didn’t say so out loud.
I took another deep breath to calm my nerves, reminding myself not to react to whatever came out of his mouth.
Silence.
The uncomfortable kind, the sinister kind, the weight of a threat poised, ready to strike.
Chad’s eyes burned with an accusation I couldn’t place, the intensity of his hate sending a chill down my spine.
The elevator jolted to a stop, but the doors refused to open, trapping us in the thick, suffocating silence.
Irefused to be intimidated, pressing the DOWN button, making it look like Chad hadn’t rattled me. He was staring at me the same way Hugo used to do, reflecting a coldness toward me, thick brows over dead eyes.
Secrets, there’d been so damn many secrets.
Him sneaking off to look at his phone.
I had tried to ignore the flaws in my relationship, convincing myself it was fine. But the cracks were too obvious to overlook. I had always done what Hugo wanted, whether it was watching a movie of his choice, eating only when he was hungry, or planning every outing around his preferences. It was never about compromise; it was about him getting his way. The imbalance was glaring, and deep down, I knew it wasn’t healthy.
But the alternative was loneliness—yet I was surviving without him, as though my fear had been irrational all along, a smokescreen set off to keep me there.
“Are you going back to your floor?” asked Chad, frowning.
I snapped back to the present, realizing I’d zoned out. “What?”
“What did you do?” he said, pointing to the elevator number, annoyed we’d stopped.
You pushed all the damn buttons, you twat.
I reached out and punched the button again to get us moving.
There was another jolt, and then we descended, thankfully.
The elevator stopped on my floor.
Next time I saw Chad, I’d take the stairs.
“Breakroom.” He pointed in that direction and stepped out ahead of me. “We need to talk.”
