Julian nodded. "I know."
He wouldn't forgive Caitlin that easily. In fact, he wouldn't even bother opening the door for her.
Who did Caitlin think she was, anyway?
Just because she showed up, did she expect him to drop everything and pay attention to her?
Hadn't she blocked Dalton on every platform already?
She was so capable—let her figure things out on her own and never come crawling back to him!
The thought of Caitlin standing outside, desperate and begging him to open the door, filled Julian with a smug sense of satisfaction.
The knocking continued.
Dalton, noticing Julian had no intention of answering, couldn't help but prod him. "Julian, she's been knocking forever. Just go open the door already! If you don't, she's going to be frantic—she might even do something drastic."
Given how much Caitlin loved Julian, Dalton wasn't exaggerating. She'd tried to take her own life once before.
Julian finally strolled over, deliberately slow, and pulled open the door.
He didn't even bother to look Caitlin in the eye, maintaining his air of icy superiority. "Who told you to come here? The Chandler Group doesn't welcome you! I made it clear at the café the other day—from now on, even if you're begging on your knees, I won't give you the time of day!"
The person standing outside blinked in confusion, then frowned. "Mr. Chandler, what are you talking about?"
Julian had been ready to savor Caitlin's humiliation, but instead, he heard his secretary's voice. He turned, startled, and stared in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"
It wasn't Caitlin.


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