Page 81 of The Last Morgan
Lucy’s stomach twisted.
"Bring me the Head of HR. Now."
Davina nodded and disappeared.
Five minutes later, a weary, nervous-looking man shuffled into Lucy’s office.
"Ms. Morgan? You wanted to see me?"
Lucy’s voice was ice.
"Sit. Now."
He did.
"Explain," she said softly. "Why were all complaints about Rufus ignored?"
He stammered, sweating.
"We thought it was best for the company. Protect the brand, avoid lawsuits—"
Lucy slammed her hand down on the desk. The man jumped.
"You sacrificed women for profit. You protected a predator. Before I fire you, who are we?" Mr. Dowell's, lifted his head, “well Rufus and I spoke at detail, I told him I wasn't happy,but he insisted he was not to blame and that the women were opportunists! I had no reason not to believe him.”
“Opportunists? Lucy screamed! “They didn't come asking for money, they came looking for help and you ignored them”. Lucy almost had a tear in her eye, looking at Byron he gave her the energy she needed to complete the task at hand. “You’re fired; any personal items left at your desk will be delivered to the address we have on file.” And with that she called for security to remove him from the building.
"I would like to see Rufus now please Davina."
Davina nodded with a small grin on her face; the moment she was waiting for was arriving. She rushed back into the room within seconds,
"He’s refusing to come." She said
Lucy’s smile was razor-sharp. "Byron. Can you do the honors? “She said playfully.
Byron’s smile was slow and deadly.
"With pleasure."
Lucy stood behind her desk, hands pressed firmly to the polished surface, the cold marble grounding her.
And then—The door burst open. Byron entered, dragging Rufus Hale behind him like a disobedient dog.
The older man stumbled, his tie askew, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.
"Get your damn hands off me!" Rufus barked. "Do you know who I am?"
Byron remained stoic, his hand tightening slightly around Rufus’s arm.
"Sit." Lucy said, her voice low and cold.
Rufus sneered, straightening his jacket like it could somehow armor him against what was coming.
"You don't give me orders, little girl. I've been running this company since before you even knew how to spell your name."
Byron shoved him none-too-gently into the chair.
Lucy stared him down.
