CASSIE 9: Fateful Choice
I arrived at the Carter office building the following afternoon. Earlier, I’d searched for the president’s image online, but the results had been confusing–various photos of different middle–aged men appeared, and I couldn’t determine which one led the company.
The building wasn’t far from where I had woken up beside Mr. Ronan Carter. Being in the area brought back a flood of unwanted, intrusive memories.
Several employees looked my way as I walked inside–probably recognizing me as Cassie, the model–but thankfully, no one rushed over like an excited fan. Everyone looked professional in their dark, tailored suits, which gave off a clear sense of wealth and status. Some of them acted cool and distant, barely acknowledging the people around them.
The president’s office was on one of the higher floors. My assistant and I waited in the reception area.
“Miss Cassie, I still can’t believe you secured this appointment,” she said, her disbelief evident. “Most people in the company doubted you’d ever get a meeting with their president after your challenge. Some even accused me of making it up when they heard we were coming.”
“Don’t mind them,” I replied, calm and dismissive.
Such gossip no longer surprised me. At Monroe Group, most people only saw me as the pampered heiress, the girl with a pretty face and nothing more, unaware that I was often the one quietly fixing the messes my brother Evan left behind.
A tall blonde woman stepped out from behind the glass partition. She carried herself with confidence, her height adding to her commanding presence.
“Miss Monroe, please follow me,” she instructed.
My assistant and I rose and followed her down a quiet hallway until she led us into a sleek meeting room with a long, polished table.
“Please wait for Mr. Carter here,” she said before leaving us.
I gave her a polite smile, even as a wave of nervous energy stirred within me. Once she stepped out, I unscrewed my water bottle cap and took a steady sip, hoping to calm my nerves. Beside me, my assistant fidgeted quietly, exhaling in short, anxious sighs.
We had barely been in the room for a minute when I spotted a familiar figure approaching. The glass wall gave us a clear view of the hallway outside.
Satan himself pushed open the glass door–I mean, Ronan Carter. The blonde from earlier stood on one side of him while a serious–looking man took the other. My assistant and I quickly stood up to show our respect.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted, his gaze locking with mine.
CASSIE 9. Fateful Choice
My mind was still swimming with questions, so I didn’t immediately realize he was
holding his hand. The assistant nudged me, snapping me back to the moment, and I accepted his handshake.
“Sorry–I was just surprised to see you again, Mr. Carter,” I murmured.
He didn’t react, but he gestured for us to sit. Although his companions exchanged curious looks, they kept quiet and didn’t ask any questions.
Maybe Ronan had a thing for long conference tables because, once again, we were
seated at one.
“I read your proposal in the email and decided to listen,” he stated with casual confidence.
Taking a deep breath, I began explaining the office situation in detail. He remained completely silent as I spoke, offering no questions or reactions, which only made me
more nervous.
‘Cassie, you need this, I reminded myself, drawing strength from the thought.
He still hadn’t said anything when I finished presenting my report and proposal.
Then he spoke.
“Everyone, please leave the room and provide the assistant with refreshments in the next room.” He paused, his gaze fixed on ‘me, before adding with deliberate emphasis,” Except for Miss Monroe…”
“Understood, sir,” the female blonde assistant replied before they all stepped out.
I swallowed hard, my mind spiraling. Why did he want me to stay? The memory of how I’d physically struck him during our last encounter suddenly resurfaced.
This must be his revenge.
Once we were isolated, he said, “You know, Miss Monroe, my family wouldn’t understand your request. You’re asking for millions in funding–money the Carter Group could put into more profitable investments.”
“I know…” I whispered, my heart sinking. Was he rejecting my proposal after all?
“But they might have agreed to this, only if…” he deliberately left the sentence unfinished,
looked up, bracing myself for whatever condition he was about to impose.
“If I told them you’re my woman.”
I swallowed hard at the words.
“You want me to be your side–chick?”
His expression darkened. “Is that the influence Mr. Reid has on you?”
My lips pressed into a thin line, unable to deny the truth in his assessment.
CASSIE 9: Fateful Choice
He added, “I’m not a womanizer.”
I redirected the conversation to what truly puzzled me. “But that’s not what I really want to understand. You said yourself that your family wouldn’t gain much from the Monroe business proposal. So why are you willing to help me at all?”
“Because you’re a model, Cassie… yet despite that comfortable career, you’re desperate enough for this deal that you faced me directly, regardless of the
consequences. You’re determined to escape the Reids‘ shadow. You need this deal badly enough to risk everything.”
I swallowed hard, unsettled by how easily he understood my motivations.
“But you still haven’t answered my question…”
He took a measured breath, his gaze intensifying as it held mine.
“Because you’re Asher Reid’s fiancée,” he said meaningfully, “And I’ve been watching you, admiring you, for years.”
Mic dropped!
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