Chapter 4 Revealed Secrets

Sharon's POV

When Thomas invited me into his private lounge after the board meeting, the workplace was abnormally quiet. I saw slight lines of tiredness on his face for the first time, and his big shoulders seemed strained.

"Sit, Sharon," he said, gesturing to the soft armchair across from him.

Despite my hesitation, I obeyed. His icy manner had vanished, to be replaced by something I couldn't quite identify-perhaps sadness?

"I'm sure you're wondering why I requested this arrangement," Thomas said in a hushed tone.

Unsure of what to say, I nodded.

He leaned back and sighed, saying, "Being a Harrington is not easy." "People believe that wealth and power make life easier, but they fail to see the betrayal and ongoing struggles."

"fights?" Furious by the sensitivity in his voice, I asked.

He paused as if considering how much to divulge. My mother left when I was ten years old. The pressures of this life were too much for her. My father just moved on without even blinking. Ever since then, I've had to defend what's rightfully mine. Veronica and Maxwell are a part of that universe.

My gut knotted at the mention of their names. "Why are you just now telling me this?"

"Because you must be aware of what you are getting into. They'll attempt to shatter you. And they will pursue me if they are unable to.

My spine tingled at what he said. This was more than just a business charade-this was war.

I said, "You make it sound like I'm your shield."

He said sharply, "You're more than that, Sharon." "My only hope to put an end to this madness is you."

I couldn't get Thomas's remarks out of my head as I walked out of Harrington Corp. It was late, the streets were dark, and the normal bustle of the city had died down to a spooky quiet.

I sensed a presence halfway to my apartment. I had a follower.

I looked over my shoulder and accelerated my speed, my pulse pounding. Out of reach, a shadow moved.

"Who is here?" Trying to sound bolder than I felt, I yelled out.

No response.

I slipped inside a convenience shop after turning a corner and pretended to look through the shelves. I glanced in the direction of the glass entrance, but the person I saw did not follow me inside.

The cashier looked at me questioningly. "Are you alright, Miss?"

I forced a grin and lied, "I'm fine." "I'm just... exhausted."

A few minutes later, with my suitcase in hand, I went back outside. Even though the street seemed deserted, I didn't relax until I arrived at my flat.

I opened the door with a wave of relief, only to freeze in dread.

It was a catastrophe in my living room. Drawers were ripped out, couch cushions were cut, and their contents were all over the floor. The room was filled with clothing, papers, and shattered glass.

One message, in large, threatening characters, was resting on the coffee table:

"Take a vacation before it's too late."

I was still rattled by the break-in the next morning. When my phone buzzed, I almost burst out laughing.

The text said, "Maxwell Harrington wants to meet with you," and then it included an address.

I went against my better judgment.

It was a fancy café, the kind where you were appraised by a glimpse and said behind porcelain cups. Maxwell sat at a booth in the corner, his eyes barely meeting his endearing grin.

As I got closer, he stood and said, "Sharon." "I appreciate you coming."

I slipped into the seat across from him and said, "I didn't think I had much of a choice."

He laughed, but it had no warmth in it. "Direct and to the point. That appeals to me.

"Maxwell, what do you want?"

His grin turned to a calculating one. "To provide you some guidance. Leave as soon as you can.

I scowled. "Pardon me?"

"Are you aware of Thomas's character? What did his family do? He lowered his voice and leaned forward. "Harrington Corp. was the cause of your parents' bankruptcy, namely your father's. The father of Thomas ensured it. Do you too believe Thomas was unaware?

His remarks were like a kick to the stomach.

I responded, "You're lying," but my tone faltered.

"Am I?" Maxwell smiled again. "Shannon, you are only a pawn in his scheme. A handy diversion while he bolsters his authority. But like everyone else, you will be sent out after he is done with you.

"You don't have my faith."

He stood up and replied, "Suit yourself." Don't claim I didn't warn you, however.

Later that day, my feelings were so intense that I barged into Thomas's office.

"What kept you from telling me?" I slammed the door behind me and demanded.

Thomas's face was unclear when he glanced up from his desk. "Tell you what?"

Concerning my parents. About what your relatives did to them. My voice broke, but I was not going to give up.

His jaw tensed as he stood. "What did you hear from Maxwell?"

Is it important? Is that accurate?

His eyes were piercing and dark as he took a step closer. "You can't trust Maxwell, no matter what he says."

"That isn't a response!" I yelled, letting out my frustration. "Why won't you just be honest with me?"

"Because, Sharon," he continued softly, "the truth is complicated."

With tears in my eyes, I said, "That's not good enough."

Thomas reached for me, but I stepped back. "Thomas, you have my confidence. You're exactly like the others, even though I believed you were unique.

His expression stiffened. "Maybe you shouldn't be here if you believe that."

I wasn't prepared for how deeply his tone struck me with its frigid finality. With a sorrowful heart full of mistrust and uncertainty, I turned and left.

However, I couldn't get rid of the impression that I was leaving more than just a guy behind and entering a much larger storm than I had anticipated as I made my way to the elevator.