Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle - Chapter 15: Chapter 15
You are reading Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle, Chapter 15: Chapter 15. Read more chapters of Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle.
The receptionist frowned, taking in Lorraine's disheveled appearance—messy hair, wearing just a bathrobe. "You're here for Mr. Moore?" she asked, already moving her hand toward the alarm button.
"Yes. I need to see him," Lorraine said. Her voice stayed calm, but her fists were tight at her sides.
'Does she really think Mr. Moore accepts walk-ins?' The receptionist barely suppressed an eye-roll but maintained her professional smile. "I'm afraid Mr. Moore requires appointments for all meetings. Do you have an appointment?"
Lorraine remained silent. She'd come here without an appointment, as if drawn by some unseen force.
"Is there a reason you need to see Mr. Moore? If it's not urgent..." the receptionist added, hoping to get Lorraine to leave.
Lorraine shouldn't have come, but she couldn't walk away—like some invisible force held her there. "I need to see him," she said again, her voice tense. "Please, just let me up."
From his top-floor office at Moore Group, Eugene observed the tense scene unfolding below through the security monitor. Leaning back in his leather chair, he pressed the intercom button.
"Give the phone to the woman at the desk," he said to the receptionist.
The receptionist stiffened at the sound of his voice, fumbling as she passed the receiver to Lorraine. "I-It's Mr. Moore for you," she stammered, suddenly reassessing the disheveled woman in front of her.
Lorraine took the phone, her throat tight. "I need to see you," she managed.
Eugene's response was measured. "Who am I?"
She pressed her lips together, his name lodged in her throat.
Silence stretched between them until, after a long pause, the line went dead.
Lorraine clutched the receiver, frustration burning through her. 'Is this some kind of game to them? Another twisted way for the Moores to toy with me—the cat batting at a cornered mouse?'
"Why did the call drop?" The receptionist, oblivious to Eugene deliberately hanging up, redialed and passed the phone back to Lorraine. "It's reconnected. Go ahead." Her voice was gentler now.
Lorraine tightened her grip on the phone, repeating her request.
Who am I?" Eugene demanded again.
Her nails bit into her palms. She drew a slow breath, and then barely whispered, "Eugene."
Eugene seemed satisfied with the answer and ended the call. He turned to Isaac beside him. "Go bring her up."
The elevator doors opened on the top floor. Lorraine stepped out, feeling everyone stare at her. Their looks burned like tiny shocks. Eugene's name kept playing in her mind, over and over, making her face hot with shame.
The last few days had hit her hard—wave after wave of pain, until even breathing felt like a struggle.
The door to Eugene's office creaked open. Lorraine stood frozen on the threshold, her face draining of color as she looked at him. Her hands clenched into tight fists without her even realizing it.
Eugene turned from the window and crossed the room toward her. The contrast between his composed appearance and her disheveled state couldn't have been sharper. "What do you need?" he asked.
Lorraine stared at his approaching shoes as the awful memories surged.
Lorraine stared at his approaching shoes as the memories surged—the Moores and Shaws setting her up, Stephen cheating on her, and Eugene taking what she never agreed to give.
The unfairness of it all burned like acid in her chest. Then something inside her snapped. Her hand flew up and cracked across his cheek.
"Yes. I need to see him," Lorraine said. Her voice stayed calm, but her fists were tight at her sides.
'Does she really think Mr. Moore accepts walk-ins?' The receptionist barely suppressed an eye-roll but maintained her professional smile. "I'm afraid Mr. Moore requires appointments for all meetings. Do you have an appointment?"
Lorraine remained silent. She'd come here without an appointment, as if drawn by some unseen force.
"Is there a reason you need to see Mr. Moore? If it's not urgent..." the receptionist added, hoping to get Lorraine to leave.
Lorraine shouldn't have come, but she couldn't walk away—like some invisible force held her there. "I need to see him," she said again, her voice tense. "Please, just let me up."
From his top-floor office at Moore Group, Eugene observed the tense scene unfolding below through the security monitor. Leaning back in his leather chair, he pressed the intercom button.
"Give the phone to the woman at the desk," he said to the receptionist.
The receptionist stiffened at the sound of his voice, fumbling as she passed the receiver to Lorraine. "I-It's Mr. Moore for you," she stammered, suddenly reassessing the disheveled woman in front of her.
Lorraine took the phone, her throat tight. "I need to see you," she managed.
Eugene's response was measured. "Who am I?"
She pressed her lips together, his name lodged in her throat.
Silence stretched between them until, after a long pause, the line went dead.
Lorraine clutched the receiver, frustration burning through her. 'Is this some kind of game to them? Another twisted way for the Moores to toy with me—the cat batting at a cornered mouse?'
"Why did the call drop?" The receptionist, oblivious to Eugene deliberately hanging up, redialed and passed the phone back to Lorraine. "It's reconnected. Go ahead." Her voice was gentler now.
Lorraine tightened her grip on the phone, repeating her request.
Who am I?" Eugene demanded again.
Her nails bit into her palms. She drew a slow breath, and then barely whispered, "Eugene."
Eugene seemed satisfied with the answer and ended the call. He turned to Isaac beside him. "Go bring her up."
The elevator doors opened on the top floor. Lorraine stepped out, feeling everyone stare at her. Their looks burned like tiny shocks. Eugene's name kept playing in her mind, over and over, making her face hot with shame.
The last few days had hit her hard—wave after wave of pain, until even breathing felt like a struggle.
The door to Eugene's office creaked open. Lorraine stood frozen on the threshold, her face draining of color as she looked at him. Her hands clenched into tight fists without her even realizing it.
Eugene turned from the window and crossed the room toward her. The contrast between his composed appearance and her disheveled state couldn't have been sharper. "What do you need?" he asked.
Lorraine stared at his approaching shoes as the awful memories surged.
Lorraine stared at his approaching shoes as the memories surged—the Moores and Shaws setting her up, Stephen cheating on her, and Eugene taking what she never agreed to give.
The unfairness of it all burned like acid in her chest. Then something inside her snapped. Her hand flew up and cracked across his cheek.
End of Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle Chapter 15. Continue reading Chapter 16 or return to Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle book page.