Chapter198 – Tax evasion
Their gossip hummed through the hallway, but Clarissa ignored it. She sat silently, eyes on the files in her hands, her jaw tight. Oriana glanced at her, then noticed the untouched cup of coffee.
“I’ll make you a fresh one,” Oriana offered carefully.
Clarissa stopped her. “No need.” She took the cup herself, sipped.
The coffee was smooth and rich, and after a couple of swallows, her mood leveled out. Oriana hesitated, then spoke up.
“Miss Clarissa, I don’t mean to overstep, but… the Harrington Group is one of the most reputable firms in Westhaven. Working with them could be good for us.”
Clarissa exhaled slowly. “Because I’m not inviting trouble..”
Her chest tightened at the thought. The last mess had left scars, and she’d rather cut losses than risk another disaster.
“How much would we lose if we pulled out?” she asked.
Oriana checked the numbers and grimaced. “Over five million. And that’s not counting taxes.”
Clarissa’s expression hardened. Five million wasn’t a dealbreaker for her personally, but for a young company? Every cent mattered. And a breach of contract would drag their reputation through the mud.
She drummed her fingers against the desk, silent for a long while, before finally saying, “I’ll go myself. See if we can salvage this. What’s the earliest slot available?”
“There’s a two-hour window at three p.m.”
“Book it.”
Oriana left to make arrangements. Delilah, who had been hovering nearby, finally walked over. “Clarissa, are you upset?”
Clarissa’s features softened at the sight of her. “A little. But it’s fine. I’ve got a meeting later. Want to stay here or come with me?”
“Phoenix said I shouldn’t leave your side,” Delilah said firmly. “I’ll go with you.”
Clarissa gave a faint smile and nodded. “Alright.”
......
The meeting was set in the Harrington Group’s reception room—a place Clarissa had long erased from her memory.
She sat down, expression calm, until a voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Hello, please…”
The voice was so familiar it made her pause. She lifted her gaze and saw Lyra, tray in hand.
Clarissa didn’t flinch. She simply gave a polite nod. “Thank you.” She picked up her cup, but the second the bitter scent of the coffee reached her nose, her brows knit together. She set it down almost immediately.
Moments later, the door opened. Sharp, deliberate footsteps echoed against the floor. Clarissa turned her head and watched as a tall figure in a tailored suit strode toward her.
Dorian.
He sat down across from her, all polished composure.
Clarissa’s lips curved coldly. “Strange. I didn’t expect Mr. Harrington to involve himself in such a trivial matter.”
Dorian studied her openly. Today, she wore a sleek black suit, her long hair curling in waves down her back. Her makeup was subtle but flawless, her cropped trousers showing off her legs, and her stilettos—the red soles flashing like fire—completed the picture. Sexy, elegant, untouchable.
Clarissa at work was lethal: powerful, dazzling, and demanding attention. Off-duty, she was different—softer—but no less magnetic. She’d only grown more breathtaking over the years, and Dorian felt it like a punch in the gut.
He swallowed, though his tone stayed measured. “That depends.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Clarissa noticed Lyra tense, her knuckles white on the tray. Clarissa’s expression hardened. “Mr. Harrington, you’re mistaken. I came here strictly for work. Your company is at fault, and I expect an explanation.”
Dorian inclined his head. “We’ll cover double your losses. The sponsors have already been reassured. You won’t have to worry.”
Relief flickered across Oriana’s face, but Clarissa pushed back her chair abruptly. “Then I’ll thank you for your cooperation. Since the issue’s resolved, I won’t waste any more of your time. Goodbye.”
She turned and headed for the door.
“Why the rush?” Dorian called after her. “We’re old friends. Stay for dinner, at least. We can catch up.”
Clarissa didn’t even look back. “No need. I have other obligations.” And she walked out, heels clicking sharply against the floor.
The door closed behind her, leaving Dorian and Lyra in silence.
Lyra stared after Clarissa, then turned to him, her voice soft, trembling. “Dorian…”
His eyes snapped to her, icy. “Lyra. How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t call me by name at work. Especially now. You don’t want my mother getting upset again, do you?”
The words cut. Lyra bit her lip, gripping the tray so tightly her hand shook. Tears blurred her vision before she could stop them.
Dorian sighed, exasperated. “Why are you crying again? Has someone been giving you trouble? Did my mother say something to you?”
Lyra shook her head, forcing a smile through the tears. “No… she’s been kind to me. Don’t worry.”
Dorian’s chest tightened. “Good.”
He stood to leave, but Lyra suddenly rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him from behind.
“Dorian… you’ve been staying away for so long. Please, just come home. If you don’t, they’ll think we’re still fighting.”
He froze. For a long moment, silence stretched between them. Then, reluctantly, he exhaled. “Fine. I’ll move back tonight.”
Lyra’s face lit up instantly. “Then I’ll cook your favorite dish. Come home early, alright?”
He frowned and pulled away. “Lyra, you’re not a servant. Stop lowering yourself with these little chores. You’re my wife. Start acting like it.”
Her smile faltered. Humiliation burned her cheeks.
He had once fallen for that very innocence—the sweetness, the warmth she’d given so freely. He’d called her special. He’d said he loved her just the way she was.
But now… now it felt like nothing she did was enough.
When her tears began to fall again, Dorian rubbed his temple, weary. “If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving. I have work.”
And he walked out.
The moment the door shut, Lyra collapsed onto the floor, sobs tearing out of her chest.
“Lyra!” June rushed in, pale and wide-eyed, rushing to her side. She knelt, gathering her trembling friend into her arms. “What happened?”
Lyra could barely speak through her crying. “June… he doesn’t want me anymore. He looks down on me. I can feel it.”
June’s expression darkened. On her way up, she’d seen men gathered at the front entrance, their eyes following Clarissa as she walked past. Shameless, disgusting.
And now here was Lyra, broken again. Her arms tightened around her. A sharp, cold edge entered her voice. “It’s her, isn’t it? That woman. Clarissa. She’s trying to seduce Dorian again.”
Lyra shook her head, still crying. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I’m so scared, June. What should I do?”
Every day in the Harrington family was its own quiet hell. They looked down on her. Kira made her life miserable. And just minutes ago, Dorian’s eyes—those same eyes that used to look at her with love—had been glued to Clarissa, radiant and untouchable.
June stroked her back, voice low and hard. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not her. Not anyone.”
......
That night, June finally slipped back into her quarters. The moment she kicked off her shoes, a pair of pale arms slid around her waist, and soft lips brushed against her neck.
“Baby, you’re late tonight. I’ve been waiting forever. You were with Lyra all day and didn’t even come see me.”
June turned her head, catching sight of Ivy’s striking, beautiful face.
She smirked, pulling her close. “You know how it is. I just joined the Harrington Group—I have to tread carefully. It’s a massive company.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “So what? I’ve got ties with the Stormvale family. Say the word, and I can get you promoted.”
The offer made June’s heart flutter, though she shook her head. “Forget it. Lyra’s done me favors—I owe her.”
Ivy sighed. “I’ll never win against that stubborn streak of yours.”
Back in the bedroom, Ivy wasted no time, kissing June hard on the lips. June melted into it, her voice breaking between gasps. “Ivy… I want…”
Ivy’s smile deepened, eyes glinting.
......
Later, curled against her lover’s chest, June let out a sigh. “Lyra’s miserable right now—and it’s all because of that bitch, Clarissa. Can you think of something?”
At the mention of Clarissa’s name, Ivy lit a cigarette, smoke curling lazily around her lips. Her gaze sharpened. “Actually, I know someone who’s very interested in her.”
She leaned close, whispering into June’s ear. June’s eyes lit up, then dimmed with doubt. “But… are you sure this will work? Clarissa’s close with Phoenix. If she finds out—”
Ivy waved it off. “Phoenix left the country a while ago. She won’t be back anytime soon. And by the time she does? It’ll already be over. We’ll just sit back and watch. Clarissa had been finished.”
A dangerous gleam flickered in June’s eyes. “If we could really destroy her, that would be perfect.”
She clenched her fists. That woman—just another ordinary bitch, no better than herself—yet somehow, Clarissa lived in the spotlight, adored and protected by the man June could never have.
She couldn’t stomach it. She never had. Especially when it came to William…
Her hand trembled. She glanced up at Ivy, tears threatening. “Ivy, I just don’t want you getting hurt. Darkwood ended up ruined…”
Ivy stroked her hair gently. “Don’t worry. I’m not Darkwood. I’ve got people I trust. I’ll be fine.”
Finally, June let herself smile.
.....
Three days later.
Clarissa was buried in paperwork when Oriana burst into her office, flushed and out of breath.
“Miss Clarissa, it’s bad—”
Clarissa pinched the bridge of her nose, irritation flickering. “What’s gotten into you?”
Oriana, usually calm and collected, shoved a stack of documents onto the desk. Sweat gleamed at her temples. “We’ve been accused of tax evasion. Operations are already being frozen.”
Clarissa’s eyes darkened. She paused, thinking quickly, then said firmly, “Call the police. We’ll cooperate with an investigation. In the meantime, get the finance department to pull every record.”
Her gut screamed this wasn’t a mistake—it was a setup.
Oriana opened her mouth to reply, but the office doors swung open. A group of men strode in, badges flashing.
The one leading them—Zachary—looked her up and down with a smug expression that made Clarissa’s skin crawl.
“You’re the head of this company? Someone tipped us off—tax evasion. We’re here to investigate.”
Clarissa crossed her arms. “We’ll cooperate, but the police need to be present.”
The police station had Phoenix agents embedded in it, and with them watching, she’d feel some measure of safety.
Zachary smirked. “Perfect. We’ll catch you red-handed. Let’s see how you explain yourself then.”
Clarissa’s frown deepened. A chill ran through her.
The police arrived not long after. Clarissa acknowledged them with a nod, and they nodded back.
Ten minutes later, chaos erupted. Officers carried out a body, and gasps rippled through the crowd.
It was the company’s finance manager—stabbed in the chest, her blouse soaked in red. Blood still dripped from the wound. Several of the younger women screamed, covering their mouths in horror.
Zachary sneered, his voice cutting through the panic. “Well, well. I came here for tax evasion, and instead we’ve got a murder. No wonder you looked so guilty earlier.”
“Don’t you dare talk shit,” Oriana snapped, glaring at him. “This has nothing to do with us!”