Page 69 of The Stranger

As soon as I take the last step that places me in the hallway, I turn and flee. I don’t even reach the elevator before somebody reaches out and grabs hold of my bicep.

“Not so fast, young lady.”

The deep, unfamiliar voice startles me, and as I pivot to confront the person who’s forcefully grasping my arm, I find myself paralysed. While I identify him as the older man seated across from Spencer in the meeting, he’s not someone I’ve ever encountered before.

I open my mouth to say something when someone yells, “Unhand her immediately!” My attention movesfurther down the corridor where I see a furious-looking Spencer storming towards us. “I said let her go!”

“Calm down, Son,” is the man’s reply.Son?Please don’t tell me this man is his father. “I was just introducing myself to our newest staff member. She’s a pretty little thing?—”

Whatever else he was about to say is cut off when Spencer reaches us. “Get your filthy hands off her,” he growls. The sheer weight behind his words has him immediately releasing his hold on me. Spencer then slinks his arm around my waist and somehow manoeuvres me safely behind his brick wall of a body. “I saw the way you were looking at her in there. Once you excused yourself from the meeting, I knew what you were up to. The female staff that work here are off-limits to you. She’s a fucking twenty-two-year-old, you sick piece of shit.”

“I’ve had younger,” his father says flippantly, which has bile rising to the back of my throat. He has to be at least sixty.

“If you think that’s something to be proud of, you need help,” Spencer retorts.

“Jealous, Son?”

“Hardly, I find your actions repulsive.”

“I don’t know why you are getting so worked up. As I said, I was just introducing myself to our?—”

“You may still hold a minority of shares in this company, but there is noourin this equation … this company is mine now, and Delilah ismyemployee, not yours!”

“I’ve never seen this side of you before, Son. It’s almost like …” A deep, robust laugh follows his unfinished sentence. “You’re fucking that young piece of arse aren’t you … well, I’ll be damned. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree hey, Spence?”

His crude assumption makes me cringe. What a pig.

“You motherfucker,” Spencer grumbles under his breath as he raises his balled fist and hits his father square in the jaw.

The sheer force behind the punch takes him by surprise and has him stumbling back a few steps. I peek around Spencer’s body in time to see his father reach up to wipe the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. When he notices that he is bleeding, the look he gives his son is brutal.

“I want you out of my building, and if you refuse to leave of your own accord, I’ll have security forcibly remove you.”

“I think you’re forgetting I’m a shareholder here.”

“For now.”

“If you think I’m going to sell you the rest of my stake in this company, you’re delusional. Why would I do that when Prescott Enterprises—a company I founded—is bringing in record profits?”

“Thanks to me, but that could all change in the blink of an eye. I’d rather run this fucking company into the ground than see you profit another cent from it.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Try me, old man.”

With that, his father straightens his spine and tugs on the lapels of his expensive suit jacket. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

“That useless piece of shit? I look forward to it.”

His father violently stabs at the button to call the elevator, and Spencer stands his ground until the doors close and he finally disappears from sight. The anger is rolling off him in spades when he turns to face me, but his expression softens considerably as soon as our eyes connect.

His trembling hand skims softly over my hair. “Are you okay?” His movement is so tender it has tears stinging the back of my eyes. I can’t believe he punched his father because he touched me.

“More importantly, are you?”

He moves his hand to his own hair, running his fingers through the thick dark locks. His gaze flickers from my face to behind me, and his frown returns. I glance over my shoulder and see we have an audience. The other executives—who were present in the meeting—are standing further down the corridor watching on.

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” I whisper.