After saying this, Jordan ran like a madman out of his office to the meeting room where the billionaire businessmen were having conversation with the CEO. But on reaching the door, Jordan was immediately stopped at the entrance.
"Sorry, sir, but we can't let you in. This order is given directly from the CEO himself." The security guards at the door bluntly refused.
"Let me in, you bastard. Did you forget I am the manager of this company? I will get you guys fired after this." Jordan struggled to get in but was pushed back.
"Sorry, sir, but the orders can't be neglected, and we have to stick to the CEO's words," one of the security replied, the one at the left.
"Are you trying to fool me here? I'm the manager of this company, the Golden Hue, to be specific, appointed by Derick Storm, the CEO. How on earth will you refuse my entrance to the meeting room, you two silly fools?"
The two guards shook their heads before the other one replied. "If the current CEO had passed these direct orders, even you can't make us go against it, so sir, if I may ask politely, leave here."
Jordan was dumbfounded; the disbelief unfolding before him was so overwhelming that it felt like he was inside a dream. He wasn't just fired but was also prevented from entering the meeting room. Worst of all, he didn't know who the current CEO was. He didn't even know what he had done that had led to his dismissal from work.
Jordan stood still, staring at the two guards whose presences were untouched, and no words of his could get to their ears.
"Or could the manager have found out about the evil things I have done behind his back?" Jordan thought inwardly.
He opened the dismissal letter and then went through it for the second time. "This letter is authentic; it has the stamp of the company, and only Derick Storm has the license to this specific stamp. Could his son be here for real?"
The thought spiraled inside Jordan's mind as he stared at the letter. It was now that things began to resurface more clearly in his mind. He remembered the last man he had slandered with bad statements.
"The man beside him, the man with the black glasses, his resemblance, it's so much like James, the private butler to Derek's storm."
Jordan was still trying to picture the face in his mind. He wasn't able to get a clear picture of the man's face from the first time he saw him due to how Clara had confused him with her beauty.
"I can't believe I'm such a big fool," Jordan thought inwardly, his chest tightening.
"---"
Clara walked out of the elevator, her face fuming in anger, the bag in her hands slinging nonstop, and her heels clicking on the ground as she walked faster to the exit door.
"Clara, hold a bit. Are you planning on leaving me here?" Abigail's voice sounded from a distance as she walked closer to Clara.
Clara turned. "Sorry about that; I'm filled with anger right now. Please, let's go."
"What happened? Did Jordan refuse to sign the documents?" Abigail asked.
"No, not that, it's something worse; let's get out of here. Probably when we get home and I'm calm, I might explain what happened," Clara replied.
Though Abigail grew more passionate to know what had happened, refusing to heed the warning from Clara about not being desiring talking.
"Or did Jordan try to force himself on you?" she asked again.
Clara grew angrier and stoned Abigail with her Gucci bag, which was worth more than fifteen thousand dollars, then stepped out the door.
"Gosh, she's annoying with a terrible character," Abigail sighed. "Even with that, I can't leave the Gucci bag on the floor; it's worth a lot of money."
Abigail picked up the bag from the ground. Then walked out of the building.
She got into Clara's Lamborghini, and Clara's face was fuming at her. "I thought you wouldn't come. I was about to drive off."
After saying this, Clara starts up the engine and drives away.
While driving, she slammed her hands against the steering wheel of the car. "What is that good-for-nothing human doing in a place like that? The security didn't even do anything to him."
Abigail stared at Clara as she spoke, confused about who she was talking about, so she decided to ask. "Who are you talking about? I'm off track on the conversation."
Clara sighed. "It's Lucas, of course."
"Lucas? But I thought you divorced him." Clara looked pale and more surprised.
"You're silly, yes, of course, I divorced him. What I'm trying to say is that he wasn't supposed to be in the Golden Hue company; his class is too low. I'm surprised he even got into the entrance door."
"Wow, now I understand your point, but don't jump to a conclusion; he must have gotten a cleaning job there or something, hehehe," Abigail laughed trustingly.
Though Clara only sighed. "Yeah, probably, but even a cleaner in the golden hue is paid well over ten thousand dollars. If Lucas got a job there, as you have said, then his life would definitely take a significant turn," Clara sighed and shook her head, feeling more jealous.
"Hehehe," Abigail laughed again. "Why are you looking worried about it? You know he can never match your standard even if he works as a cleaner for Golden Hue in the next ten years."
Clara chuckled softly before smiling in satisfaction. "Yeah, perhaps you are right. I should have spat on his face before leaving; maybe that would show him how disgusting his presence was to me. I hate him so much for being so careless towards Amanda, which led to her death."