Empire of Deception (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter 3

The joints in my hands begin to ache as my eyes continue to burn from staring at the bright screen monitor. Archive upon archive has been accessed, the typed records all becoming nothing but an empty blur.

    "Fuck," I curse, striking the keyboard in rage before pushing myself away from the desk. 

    My palms burn from the impact and I attempt to shake the sensation away, but the movement only fuels my anger. 

    I don't know what makes me more angry. The fact that my father hadn't spoken to me about this new agreement with Alexander Jarwin or the fact that despite all the archives available to me, I knew that there were still a good chunk being hidden from me. As official Director of Finance of Bolton Inc. I deserved to be able to freely review all economic aspects of this company. Knowing that I was still blind about certain things made me question what else my father was keeping from me. 

I am not stupid nor vapid. I was born and raised in the darkest parts of this great city, and no one dare disrespect me. I am one of the youngest to be granted a title in a corporate empire, yet the public has the audacity to doubt me. They laugh and whisper ideas of how I'll fail and how Bolton will crumble to it's knees. They're wrong. They're all fucking wrong. It wasn't until now that I realize the whispers aren't just coming from outside these walls, but from within. More specifically, on the top floor in the largest office, with an ancient oak desk covered by a thousands pictures of me growing up throughout the years. He keeps information from me because even he is testing me, and believe what you want, but test is a form of doubt. 

Before I know it I am up on my feet, crossing the threshold of my office and out the door into the hallway. 

April's greeting rings in my ears as does the ding of lift, and soon I am moving upward.

"Good afternoon, sir," the receptionist says as soon as I step out of the lift. "How may I assist you?"

"I need to see my father," I growl through gritted teeth.

"Mr. Styles is unable to meet with you at this time, perhaps in an hour or so? I can let him know that you stopped by."

God. She sounds like a fucking recording device.

I push past her and head towards the double doors. I hear her pleads behind me but her protests go unnoticed. Or more specifically, I honestly don't give a single shit what she says.

The door is unlocked and the metal handle isn't completely cold to the touch. Almost luke warm, in fact. I don't need to notice the voices on the other side of the door to know that someone is inside.

"Father," I interrupt I open the doors. 

His eyes go from his company to me and I can see and feel them narrow. 

"Please excuse me Mr. Walker, I'm afraid my son requests my attention."

The man—Mr. Walker—nods and gives my father a formal handshake before gathering his brief case and giving a plateful nod of acknowledgment towards me. As soon as Mr. Walker is out the door, my father gives me his full attention. "Close the door, son." 

"Are you going to tell me what the fuck this is about?!" I exclaim, throwing the envelope onto his desk. 

He doesn't flinch, he merely flicks his eyes down for only a second before meeting my green ones. "Let me guess, the Jarwin boy?"

"It doesn't matter how I got it, I want to know what the hell this is about! Dad, you know Alexander. You know his company and you know what he stands for. What on Earth could be so important as to include him in our affairs? Everything he touches turns to ash and ruins because that is what he does; he destroys things!" My voice shakes with rage and I fight to keep my fists at my sides."

"With destruction comes rebirth, and with rebirth comes riches, Harry. Alexander is one of the smartest men I know, who has the power to turn everything into anything he wants it to be. He will bring us victory, can't you see?!"

"I can't believe you... Out of the dumb shit you have done, this has got to top it all."

He laughs. It's mocking and full of pity. "Ignorant boy. This is all for you as it is because of you."

He doesn't seem upset anymore, nor is his tone loud. It's quiet and sharp, cutting me open like a razor blade. I imagine he enjoys watching me bleed. 

With my blood goes my rage and soon I am nothing but a weak shell ready to collapse into dust and dissolve in the cold rain. 

"He's playing God," I breathe. 

"He isn't playing God, Alexander Jarwin is God."

The knock on the door is only an echo as I stand humbled before my father. 

I hear the door creak open and soon I am hearing his voice followed by his dirty blonde hair which comes into view. 

Late 30's, Oxford graduate, and has always been around. His hair shines with gel, and his hazel eyes are rimmed with blonde lashes that real bother me because they reflect the light, making it seem as if they are glittering. Horribly annoying and distracting, especially when you have to spend an hour in a boring conference meeting room with him. To add to his annoying-ness, occasionally he wears a pair of glasses and for some reason that makes me irritated beyond anything else. 

He's the perfect mixture of geek and attractiveness, all in this tall and well built body. His entire persona screams intellect, endurance, and determination. He is creative, and always up for a challenge. He is a winner. 

Until he wasn't anymore. 

"Theodore," I say, forcing out a polite acknowledgment.

"Harry," he mumbles ever so slightly. "I hope I wasn't interrupting something."

"He was just leaving," my father answers.

My lips perk into a strained smile before I turn around, back towards the door. 

I open it and right before I can step out of his office, I hear my father call out to me one last time.

"Oh, and Harry, one more thing: If God is for us, then who could ever stop us? If God is with us, then who dare stand against us?"