Deceived Love

Chapter 12***

FIERCE CHAPTER 12!! Things go down in this one!!! ENJOY ;P Comment and vote please? Talk to me! (: Thank you girlies ;p READ ON>>>>

Harry’s P.O.V.

Harold, we have a problem. Come to my office, NOW. – Scott. I groaned at the text message.

Fucking hell. What the heck did Blake Scott want me to do now?

*An hour later*

I found myself parking in front of Scott’s building. I was fucking fuming, to say the least. Ruining my date with Amanda, just to come here and see what this bitch wanted. I was getting tired of this.

I quickly walked past the front desk, no secretary in sight. I knocked on Scott’s door, waiting for him to tell me to come in. From the other side I could hear him talking loudly on the phone. He hung up once I knocked the second time.

“Come in, Styles,” he said abruptly. I opened the door and closed it behind me, walking over to the seat, not sitting on it though. He was pacing back and forth, his hair disheveled and his tie a bit loose. He looked up at me, staring intently into my eyes with his piercing blue ones.

“I just got a fucking phone call from my men,” he started. “They say a massive part of our finances is missing,” he scoffed, taking a sip from what appeared to be wine. I waited for him to continue, staring straight at him.

“There’s a fucking trader roaming around stealing my gain! And he is one working here!” he roared, kicking a chair, and pacing back and forth again. I was familiar with Scott’s sudden outbursts. He had these recently, I’ve noticed. I leaned back against the wall, with a frown on my face.

“I know it’s not you, you’re my number one man.” His eyes locked on mine, seeing if I faltered or something. I kept my vision focused on his angry gaze. “That’s why I have a new job for you,” he stated, calming down a bit. I nodded, standing straight this time, ready to hear his orders.

“Styles, you will find that fucking trader, and you will bring him to me,” he said menacingly. My expression turned serious. “You have 3 weeks at most, and if you do not bring him, you won’t live to see another day,” he threatened, pointing a finger at me. My eyes widened.

“But Sir, I don’t think--” I started, but he cut me off, shaking his head. He laughed bitterly.

“No Harry, I can’t trust any of you fucking workers anymore,” he lashed out. I shut my mouth, looking down at the floor. “For all I know, you plan on betraying me too, and I cannot let all my hard work go to fucking ruins,” he fired. I looked at him, my blood boiling.

Me, betray him? Who the heck does he think I am?! I fucking know better than that.

“Alright Sir, I’ll have that trader for you by that time,” I assured, clenching and unclenching my fists.