Chapter 442:
ð ð ð ð ð
Roderick bowed his head, his fingers gliding through his contact list before stopping on a familiar name.
The phone rang twice, and a voice answered, lighthearted and teasing. âMr. Astley? Finally got time to treat me to a drink, huh?â
But Roderick wasnât here for pleasantries. He cut straight to the point. âLouis, your guyâs trying to bail on the deal.â
His words came out sharp and precise, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Without waiting for a response, Roderick switched the call to speakerphone. âLouis is standing right here.â
Louis froze, his heart stuttering in his chest.
Had he really forgotten how tight-knit the restoration community was? Of course, his boss knew Roderick.
âBoss, please, let me explainââ Louisâ voice wavered, his earlier bravado dissolving into thin air.
But before he could string his excuses together, a thunderous voice from the other end of the line exploded into the room.
âWhatâs there to explain, Louis? If youâre this stubborn and unreliable, I donât need you in my studio! I canât afford to keep someone like you around!â
The words came rapid-fire, a verbal assault with no room for defense.
âYou canât admit your mistakes, but you sure love holding onto the benefits, huh? Do you think the rest of us are idiots? You really think you can dominate the restoration field with your mediocre skills? Well, guess what? Youâre fired. Pack your stuff and get out. Donât ever let me see you again!â
Roderick ended the call with a sharp tap, cutting off the tirade before Louisâ boss could finish.
Louis stood there, pale and shell-shocked. Fired?
No⦠This couldnât be happening.
His thoughts swirled, the future heâd envisioned slipping through his fingers like sand. Heâd been on the cusp of promotion, ready to oversee a prestigious project in Feyland for heavenâs sake!
He was supposed to be a master by now, praised and admired by all.
But now? It was all gone.
A cold sweat broke out across his forehead. Panic bubbled up, drowning his pride. In a desperate move, Louis collapsed to his knees in front of Allison with a heavy thud.
âPlease, Iâm sorry! I apologize! Maâam⦠Maâam⦠please, forgive me!â
His bloodshot eyes searched hers for mercy, but the room remained silent, save for his ragged breathing.
Roderick, already disinterested, shook his head. âApologizing now? How noble of you. Unfortunately, itâs too late for that.â
Feeling the desperation, Louis snatched up his phone, his trembling hands fumbling to dial his boss.
But as soon as he dialed, he was met with an infuriating silence. Blocked. The call wouldnât go through.
.
.
.