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Chapter 144 A Literal Fall From Grace

144 A Literal Fall From Grace

James Harrington stood on the third floor balcony of his estate, swaying slightly with a half empty glass of whiskey clutched in his shaking hand. His grand mansion, which had been the envy of a few businessmen and was regularly featured in the magazines that pandered to the rich and elite, now lay in shambles.

Everywhere, there was broken furniture, shattered vases, and paintings, some of them knocked from their places on the walls and others shredded on the floor. Everything bore the marks of his rage. The staff had long since fled, along with the security he had dismissed in his drunken fury. Now, all that was left was silence, save for the occasional howl of the wind.

He threw back another gulp of whiskey, the burn doing little to drown the acid in his gut. His empire, his legacy, gone. Just like that.

His family had spent generations building Harrington & Co. The company was a result of their sweat, ruthlessness and ambition. And today, it had slipped through his fingers like sand. Now, she was in charge. Clarisse Newton.

A woman he had always considered a vulture. She had taken everything from him.

With a guttural snarl, he hurled his glass at the wall, watching it shatter into a hundred tiny fragments. Just like his life.

"You're pathetic."

The voice rang out like a whip, yanking him from his self loathing. He turned unsteadily to see Linda Harrington standing at the threshold of the balcony. Her arms were crossed, her expression one of pure contempt. She was also one of the Harringtons he'd let down by losing the company. She was also the only Harrington he could stand and was the head of PR for the company. "What do you want?" He slurred, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Linda slowly walked into the room, her eyes taking in the damage he'd done to the whole place. "I came to see if you had any fight left in you. Apparently not."

He laughed out loud, a hollow sound with defeat and resignation in it. "Fight?" He chuckled. "What's there to fight for? My name's been dragged through the mud, my allies have abandoned me, and our family's company is now under the control of Clarisse Newton." He spat the name like poison. "All I have left are my shares, and those won't be worth much after this disaster."

Linda tilted her head. "The shares." her eyes narrowed. "They'll be held in trust, won't they?" @@@@

James frowned, not quite following her train of thought. "No. I have no heirs, no one to leave them to. Just you." His voice softened with something resembling sincerity. "That's why I left them to you."

Linda's lips curled into a grin. "That's what I thought."

I took another sip, keeping my eyes on her. "You know, Clarisse, I find your ruthlessness quite... captivating."

"You're trying to seduce me, aren't you?" She asked dryly.

I nearly choked in surprise on my drink, but managed to compose myself in time. Instead, I tilted my head, allowing a slow smirk to spread across my face. "Would it work if I said yes?"

Then, she laughed, a genuine, rich sound that was rare coming from her. "You and your father." She shook her head in amusement. "So alike and yet so different. This doesn't surprise me in the least."

I frowned. Why bring my father into this?

"What are you trying to say?" I asked her.

Her expression cooled as she picked up her glass again and took another sip. "It means you should stop pursuing me, Nicholas. As long as you carry the blood of Logan Voss in your veins, nothing will ever happen between us."

Well, fuck.

She was basically saying to give up.

I opened my mouth to speak and that was when the door to her office burst open and her new assistant rushed inside, her face pale.

"Ms. Newton–" She said, her eyes wide before she saw me. She hesitated, glancing between Clarisse and I.

Clarisse waved a hand. "Speak."

The assistant took a deep breath. "Charles Harrington is dead. He... he jumped from his balcony."

Wait, what?