Soon, the Gordon family would be ensnared in Haroldâs trapâ¦
Rena pushed Waylen aside.
âItâs none of your concern.
â
Yet, Waylenâs gaze lingered, his voice adopting a softer tone.
âVisit my apartment this weekend.
Allow me to treat you to dinner.
I possess a âMorning Dewâ piano.
Wouldnât you Like to play it for yourself?â
The âMorning Dewâ piano?
The one favored by Louis XII?
It was a temptation Rena found hard to resist.
Observing her inner struggle, Waylen smiled.
âThe choice is yours to make.
â
Within Renaâs heart, a resolve took root.
She would never set foot in his apartment.
But could it be true? Did he truly possess that piano in his abode? Rumors had pegged its value at around twenty million dollars.
Rena departed, her presence leaving a lingering ache in the air.
Waylen retraced his steps to claim Renaâs untouched coffee, taking measured sips until half of it was consumed.
While lost in his thoughts, Jazlyn entered the office.
Waylenâs voice dipped to a hushed murmur.
âContact the auction house for me.
I want to acquire the âMorning Dewâ piano, regardless of the cost.
Have it delivered to my apartment in Duefron before the weekend.
â Jazlyn was certain her boss had fallen in love.
Hadnât he just broken up with his girlfriend?
How had he managed to regain his senses so swiftly?
Waylen cast a glance at Jazlyn, inquiring.
âWill it pose a challenge?â Jazlyn hastened to reply, âNo, Iâll handle it.
â
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Cradling the coffee cup, Waylen approached the French window with deliberate steps.
His voice dipped even lower, a shadow of intensity woven into his words.
âDig into the financial records of the Moore Group.
Unearth any compromising evidence.
Additionally, arrange a meeting with Darren Gordon, the Moore Groupâs financial officer.
â Darren Gordon of the Moore Group?
Jazlynâs brows knitted in puzzlement.
Waylen raised a placating hand, signaling her not to delve further.
As Jazlyn exited, Waylen remained solitary, a sense of solitude settling around him.
In this dream, events from ten years ago were occurring, and he alone held the script of fate, privy to both past and future.
The woman he yearned for stood before him, yet he found himself resorting to every means to draw her near.
The impulsive ki*s he had stolen from Rena weighed heavily on his conscience.
Furthermore, he bore a debt owed to Harold, one he was intent on repaying.
And then there was Darren.