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Chapter 323
Chapter 323:
The sharp, shrill ring of his private encrypted desk phone shattered the silence.
Cole flinched. He stared at the blinking red light. Only three people had that direct line. He reached out with a heavy hand and pressed the speaker button.
“Speak,” Cole rasped.
“Mr. Compton, I apologize for interrupting your work p>
It was Mrs. Lynch, the head housekeeper of the Compton Estate in the Hamptons. Her normally calm, professional tone was laced with barely concealed panic.
Cole’s brow furrowed. “What is it, Mrs. Lynch p>
“Sir, it is regarding Ms. Beasley,” Mrs. Lynch said, her voice dropping lower. “She arrived at the estate two hours ago with a moving truck. She has completely bypassed the guest wing p>
Cole’s spine stiffened. A cold wave of irritation moved through him. “What do you mean p>
“She has moved all of her belongings directly into the primary master suite, sir,” Mrs. Lynch continued. “She has also instructed the staff to remove Madam’s — that is, June’s — remaining winter clothing from the walk-in closets to make room for her own p>
а𝖽𝗱𝗂𝗰tіv𝖾 𝗌𝘁𝗼r𝘪𝘦s 𝗈𝘯
The irritation detonated instantly into a violent spike of rage.
The master suite was June’s sanctuary. It still carried the faint scent of her gardenia perfume. The thought of Alycia sleeping in that bed, touching June’s things, made Cole physically ill.
“She also dismissed two of the senior gardeners this morning,” Mrs. Lynch added quietly, “because they did not address her as ‘Mrs. Compton p>
Cole slammed his fist down on the mahogany desk. The heavy wood groaned under the impact.
“Stop her,” Cole ordered, his voice a low, lethal growl. “Move her luggage to the furthest guest room in the east wing. If she touches a single piece of June’s clothing, you have my full authorization to have security remove her from the property p>
“Understood, sir,” Mrs. Lynch said, the relief audible in her voice.
Cole ended the call and pressed his fingers hard against his temples, trying to massage away the pounding headache building behind his eyes.
Before he could draw a breath, the heavy double doors of his office swung open.
Cole looked up, ready to tear into his assistant for allowing someone in without knocking.
The words died in his throat.
Alycia walked into the office. She had bypassed the executive assistant by claiming Cole had summoned her for an urgent family matter — a lie delivered with such convincing, teary-eyed distress that the assistant had not dared to question it.
She was not wearing a business suit. She wore a highly inappropriate, nearly sheer black silk slip dress that clung tightly to her frame, delicate lace trim exposing the top of her chest. In her hands she carried a small porcelain teacup on a silver saucer. Her face was arranged into a soft, sickeningly sweet smile.
Cole’s eyes narrowed into freezing slits of pure disgust.