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CHAPTER TWO

I observed him carefully as he entered my office. Mr. Thomas was of average height, his hair thinning, and his appearance fell somewhere between average and unattractive.

He looked spineless, yet he managed to steal from me, proving he possessed some backbone despite his incompetent look.

"Hello, Mr. Kingston," the fool greeted me with a smile as he took his seat in front of my desk.

Punching him in the face to wipe that smile off would be unprofessional, but it would certainly satisfy my rage.

"You must be Thomas Sanders. I've heard a lot about you. Your company is renowned in the interior design world," I said, leading him on, knowing he had no clue why he was really here.

"That's high praise coming from you, Mr. Kingston. Anyone would want to be in my shoes right now. It's a pleasure to be in your presence," Thomas replied, maintaining his fake smile.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" I said with a grin, relishing the moment, waiting for the right time to let the cat out of the bag.

"Yes, sir. Your head accountant called me, stating you had something important to discuss," Mr. Thomas said, feigning concern. His deception skills were truly impressive.

"I indeed have something to discuss. What made you think I would never discover that your company was stealing from me, Mr. Thomas?" I asked, relishing the sight of his blood draining from his face as he turned pale.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," Mr. Thomas stuttered, his words tumbling out. "If you have no idea what I'm talking about, why did the tone of your voice change, Mr. Thomas?" I taunted, folding my hands across my chest, leaning back in my chair, observing his every move.

"My tone didn't change, sir. You must be mistaken," Mr. Thomas regained control over his voice. "My company would never do such a thing. There must be a mix-up."

"There is no mix-up, I assure you, Mr. Thomas. My financial team reviewed your books, and they didn't add up. Seven million dollars went missing. Care to explain that?" I asked, maintaining my position in the chair, a grin creeping across my face. "Are you suddenly struck dumb, Mr. Thomas?" I added,

"There must be a mistake. My company didn't steal anything," he persisted.

"Enough with the charade, Thomas. I know you stole the seven million dollars missing from the books. So, how do you intend to fix this problem?" I said, watching him break down into a fit of hysteria

"What do you want? If you reported this to the police, I'd be behind bars now. I have nothing you want, so you can't blackmail me," Thomas glared at me, his expression shifting to one of defiance.

"Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. You shouldn't glare at someone who holds your life in his hands. I could destroy your family and your company in a single day. Mind your manners," I said, relishing the control I had over him as his expression changed. He looked calm but I couldĀ  still see the fear in his eyes.

"Good boy. Now, back to business. You do have something I want," I continued, an evil smile playing on my lips.

"And what might that be, sir?" Thomas asked, sweat forming on his forehead.

"If you want me to forget everything and sweep this whole issue under the rug, you have to give me the hand of one of your daughters in marriage."

"What? You want me to sell one of my daughters to you?"

"Don't make it sound so vulgar. No, I'm simply asking you to offer one of your daughter's hands in marriage to secure my silence," I replied, maintaining my smirk.

"But why?" Thomas asked, genuine confusion in his voice.

"That's none of your concern, Thomas. But I'm a reasonable man. I'll give you a day to think about it. But the clock is ticking. If I don't receive your answer by tomorrow, you'll be going to jail, Thomas."

"Yes, sir. May I leave now?"

"You may go, Thomas. Tick-tock, tick-tock," I said, mocking him as he walked out of the door, scowling. Having him as a future relative could potentially backfire, but I had no choice. It was either this or losing my company. Finding love was not an option for me. Love made you weak, vulnerable, a bloody idiot, and no woman could have that kind of hold over me.

At Sanders & Co.

Thomas's POV

I paced around the room, thoughts racing through my mind. My footsteps echoed, anger and fear coursing through me. "How dare that bastard mock me? How dare he try to blackmail me? I'm Thomas Sanders. I fear no man," I muttered to myself in the empty office. I picked up my phone and dialed my wife's number. After a few rings, she answered, her voice dripping with endearment.

"Hello, honey. How's my pumpkin doing?" Lillian greeted me.

"Lillian, we have a problem. I need you at the office right away," I said, ignoring her sweet greeting.

"But honey, I'm at my spa appointment. Can't it wait until you get home?" Lillian replied, her tone laced with reluctance.

"It can't, Lillian. Get over here right now, and I won't ask again," I said, ending the call.

An hour later

The office door swung open, and Lillian walked in. She was dressed in a knee-length nude off-shoulder gown, her face adorned with makeup that made her look like a doll, though not in a good way. Sometimes I wondered what I saw in her, but when she got pregnant, I couldn't just abandon her. She knew too much.

"What was so important that you had to drag me from my appointment?" Lillian asked in her high-pitched voice, which grated on my nerves.

"Good afternoon, my lovely wife. Unless we come up with a solution to our current problem, you and I will be going to jail," I stated, watching the color drain from her face.

"What are you talking about, Thomas? Is this some kind of joke? Because it isn't funny."

"I'm dead serious, dear wife. Mr. Kingston discovered that we were stealing from him and threatened to report us unless we met his demands."

"What? How did that bastard find out? We left no traces."

"Well, he found out, and now we're screwed."

"What are his demands?"

"He wants one of our daughters' hands in marriage, dear wife. Can you hand over Katherine to that bastard? He'll ruin her."

"What? My baby isn't going to marry that bastard."

"So, what will we do then?"

"We can plan a dinner and invite that douchebag. When he arrives, we'll have dinner, and you'll announce Tamara's marriage to him, giving her no chance to object," Lillian suggested.

"And what's next?" I asked.

"Once that douchebag is gone, you'll call her into your office and explain how the company was losing money and this was the only option. You know how much she loves this company; she'll surely say yes. Dear husband, that's how we'll make all of this go away."

"That's why I love you, Lillian. You always come up with the best plans," I said, approaching her and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"I'll call Mr. Kingston tomorrow and inform him that we agree to his terms," I said then Lillian nodded in agreement, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of relief and cunning.

"Why wait until tomorrow? We already have a plan in place," she suggested.

"You're right," I replied, picking up the phone to call Mr. Kingston. After a few rings, his secretary answered, "Good afternoon, this is Elena Miller. How may I help you?"

"Good afternoon, Elena. This is Mr. Sanders speaking. I would like to speak to Mr. Kingston. He's expecting my call," I said confidently.

"Hold on, I'll patch you through to Mr. Kingston. Have a nice day," Elena responded.

A few minutes later, Mr. Kingston's voice came through the line. "Mr. Sanders, I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. So, what's the verdict? Do you accept it or not?"

"Yes, I agree, but we'll have to announce the news during dinner not to scare my daughter Tamara," I replied, holding back a smirk.

"So, you're giving me your youngest daughter. May I ask why?" Mr. Kingston inquired.

"She is a better match for you. Tamara is more obedient compared to my eldest daughter," I explained, masking my true intentions.

"When will this dinner take place?" Mr. Kingston asked.

"In two days' time, Mr. Kingston," I replied, mentally patting myself on the back for our swift resolution.

"That's acceptable, Mr. Sanders. It was a pleasure doing business with you," Mr. Kingston said before ending the call.

Turning to face Lillian, I said, "He agreed, and he'll join us for dinner in two days."

"Perfect. Problem solved. We've killed two birds with one stone. I've always wanted to get rid of that brat Tamara, always thinking she's better than everyone else," Lillian remarked triumphantly.

"Don't worry, my love. We won't have to deal with her anymore," I assured her, a sense of relief washing over me. "I sometimes wonder why I didn't give her up when her mother died. She's been nothing but a pain."

"Let's not dwell on that now, dear husband. With this problem behind us, let's go out to dinner and celebrate," Lillian suggested, and I couldn't help but agree. We left the office together, heading to one of our favorite restaurants, ready to toast to our cunning plan.

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