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Chapter 19

Author: C.ELLICA
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

"There you are, Chelsea. Have a seat. Remember, Dave?" Christie suddenly said and smiled at Dave, looking over to where she was still standing in the doorway.

Oh my God. How the hell was he here? Chelsea thought to herself as her heart hammered.

She remained motionless as Dave rose from his seat, approached her, and extended his hand to greet her. "Hi, Chelsea. It’s nice to see you again," he said, flashing an attractive smile that left her breathless. Dave looked at her like she was the only person in the room, his eyes wreaking havoc on her already confused mind. Chelsea couldn't believe her eyes.

Dave and Sebastian shared the same towering and slender frame, but that was where their similarities end. Where Sebastian wore an expensive suit, Dave wore a pair of jeans and a leather jacket in a bad boy way that melted her heart.

Dave’s piercing blue eyes make her knees quiver as she becomes lost in their intense gaze. Oh God, how she missed him so much. What the hell happened to them
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    "Maybe he had a reason, dear," Jane muttered. "It’s not too late to do that, is it?" Catherine asked, righteous indignation lighting up her face. "He shouldn’t get away with that! But I can talk to him and slap the asshole in the face for you." That’s her, Catherine: valiant champion of underdogs everywhere. She felt a rush of affection for her best friend and gave her a little shoulder shove. "I saw him earlier, in my sister-fiancée’s mansion." "Woah! My Dave? The asshole didn't even bother to see me?" Catherine asked. "I ignored the hell out of him and he offered me a job." Jane smirked. "I know where this is going." "Trust me, Jane, I'm going to make him pay for hurting the hell out of me." Catherine sighed, "Ah, that smarmy jerkwad would just have an excuse ready and waiting. Believe me, he’s agreed with so many of his advisors’ opinions that the man thinks the sun shines out of his ass and is responsible for our temperate London climate." Jane made a sympathetic noise. "

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    In just a few short minutes, she was back in the dining room looking down at a spread of hot buttermilk pancakes, bacon, ham and eggs, fruit, freshly brewed coffee, and a selection of freshly squeezed juices. Her eyes widened in awe. "Is this all for me?" she asked Marcel. "Yes, Miss Chelsea, and Mr. Brown left a note for you." He pointed at a white envelope placed on a small silver tray beside her plate. Her name has been written in cursive in the middle of it. "Is there anything else you require, Miss Chelsea?" "No, Marcel. That will be all. Thank you. And please, just call me Chelsea," she said with a warm smile. He nodded and left me for her breakfast. She sat down slowly and gazed again at the array of breakfast items in front of her, but soon her interest returned to the envelope. What could Dave have written in it? Bastard. She thought. The nerve. Minutes later, she found herself devouring a lot more breakfast than she anticipated. Not eating much last night has apparen

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    I do not recognise my voice. It is thick with animosity. My hands are shaky and tears are threatening to spill from my eyes. Appearing to realise the seriousness of the situation, Dave turns to his colleagues. "Gentleman, please excuse me for a moment?"He gets up and strides over to me, gripping my forearm as he gently pulls me out of the room. We walk down a short corridor and into an empty office. Dave shuts the door and glares at me, anger fueling his eyes. "What the hell was that, Chelsea?!" he states, his tone biting."Explain this to me!" I half-shout, flinging the documents into his hands. "You lied about what the company is doing in Kenya. You have plans to use children? and exploit the people in an area that is too damn close to the orphanage I volunteered at. And you plan to pay the workers practically nothing!"He begins to scan the papers, his eyes darting back and forth hastily."How did you get this?!" he asks, puzzled yet still furious."What does it matter? It’s out i

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