Bound to the Billionaire: His Defiant Queen

Chapter 9: CURTAIN CALL OF FATE

Harlem’s POVThe bar is basically empty today. I look around while cracking some fresh ice. I hear the bell above the door ring and I look to see to see who it is. Relief floods me. It’s just Lex. I’ve been paranoid lately. I keep thinking those druggie psychos are going to march through that door any moment. Even worse, I keep thinking it will be Ezra Roth. Now, that I know his name I keep seeing him everywhere; on newsletters, billboards, articles, even when I open bloody social media. Like a curse.

"Hey babe. I got you lunch" Lex says sitting and placing a brown bag.

"Ooh, what is it? "I say snatching the bag. I’m famished. "Loaded fries, you’re favourite. Suspected you might not have eaten anything, so I came as your guardian angel of course"

I pout. "You didn’t have to." I inhale the scent of potatoes which are fried to crisp perfection with some chicken, cheese and sauce. Food is a blessing.he woman just smiles at me. Okayy.

I sigh and take a seat. I already informed Lexi that I was on my way here and she wished me luck. I look around me and think maybe were going to be having an interview. A point which could have been made by the smiling woman if she actually spoke a word.

I scroll through my phone hoping to pass time and wonder if I should go back and ask the woman if she can take me to Lucas. Maybe not a good idea.

The door slams open suddenly, cutting through the silence. A man wearing a dark turtleneck walks in, not Lucas, but you can tell he’s important. He doesn’t even greet us. He just drops a stack of scripts on the table like it’s a war declaration.

"You have two minutes to scan your lines. Then we call you up." His tone is dry and brutal.

Everyone sits up straighter suddenly startled. The papers are shared round. I stare down at my script, it’s just a page, a tense exchange between a woman and her lover about betrayal.

My palms are sweaty. I mutter the words under my breath, trying to pin down the rhythm, but my brain feels like static. Shit, I’m not sure this is what I was expecting. But yet again, I don’t know what I was expecting.

A door is opened and I see that there’s a stage behind the room, no, we were backstage the whole time. We all move towards the stage and stand. Christ, this is all moving so fast.

They call one girl first. She’s confident, all smiles, but her voice is fake-sweet, like she’s reading lines for a soap opera. She gets dismissed in thirty seconds. New Record.

The next guy tries too hard to be dramatic, practically shouting. He gets cut off mid-sentence. One by one, they’re all torn down.

And then my name is called. Okay Harlem, Breathe. You can do this.

I stand at the centre of the stage and look to see a blinding light from above; I could feel my legs shaking. The man gestures with zero patience. "Whenever you’re ready."

I grip the paper, inhale, exhale and start reading; but halfway through, something in me snaps. I stop looking at the script. My voice changes. It’s not a performance anymore, it’s me.

The words about betrayal aren’t just words: they’re my father’s indifference, my mother’s silent and broken personality, the night at the bar, Ezra’s Goddamn smirk. It all crashes into my tone. My voice breaks in places, but it doesn’t sound weak. It sounds real. I stare into the abyss of the blinding light and pour it all out.

I don’t even realize I’ve dropped the paper until I hear silence. A heavy silence. The kind that fills a cathedral. Great, I fucked up. They’re going to think I’m crazy.

When I finally blink back into the room, everyone’s staring. Not mocking, not judgmental. Just... staring.

And in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a look I can’t read, is Lucas. His arms are folded, but his eyes, his eyes look like someone who just struck gold by accident.

The man with the scripts clears his throat, trying to cover his own shock. "Thank you. That will be, sufficient."

I walk back to my seat, heart hammering. The others avoid looking at me now. For once, silence feels like victory.

Lucas is still watching. And I feel it, his respect.

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I’m in Lucas’s office. And I can tell, it looks so... him. He looks at me from across the table. Those intense blue eyes I’m starting to get used to.

"You’re hired" his monotone voice had a bit of amusement laced with it. "Oh. So, I didn’t completely embarrass myself. Good to know. Because, if you were about to tell me I wasted everyone’s time, I was ready to crawl under your desk and never come out. I trail off. I tuck my hair behind my ears awkwardly.

Luca looks more amused. "You’re intense. That’s what I want. Intensity cuts through the noise. You cut through." Yay. I do a little jiggle in my head.

"Thank you. It’s just...I didn’t expect this at all" I say gesturing with my hands. But I’m happy we met because I could get used to this" I say truthfully. He stares at me for some seconds like he didn’t expect me to be honest and with a look I can’t decipher but before he can reply, someone walks in and it’s the smiling woman from earlier.

"Sir, you have a visitor." Lucas looks at her and motions for her to let the visitor in. She does and Lucas gives the person a polite smile before standing to shake him or her.

"Thanks for coming, Mr. Roth. It’s a pleasure to meet you again" I squint at the empty wall in front of me. Roth. Where have I... Oh no. No, no, no. Not him. Not here. Not now.

I spin so fast I almost twist my head 360 and look up and up until I meet the shocked eyes of Ezra Roth.

Okay Universe, you win again.