Arranged Love (L.S.)✓

Chapter 4

Harry sat on a plush red sofa chair, a large rectangular mahogany table seperating him from the man who was sitting opposite to his vision. It was Mark Tomlinson.

Must say, the old man hadn’t changed much since Harry last saw him. He was the glowering, pitiful, sore loser, who fumed up and threw a fit at the business meet held in London last year, when Harry had taken away the deal that Mark almost got his greedy hands on. But, right under his nose, Harry had won it with barely his presence in just about ten minutes.

Harry did not come here to fight, nor he wanted the mud slingling of their business to get in the way, he was here, only with the motive of a concliatory act. A cover to his real motives. He was very close to his goal and he wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

Mark Tomlinson leaned back in his chair, assessing him, his scowl now turned into a deep hue displeasure at Harry's invading space in his house and office.

Harry let the envious glare glide by as he thuttered all kinds of possibilties of something of the truth appear on his face and eyes. It was the thing he learned from his father. Never let the human in you take over in business. It’s the survival of the fittest and the hunters are too many. It’s your choice to be the hunted or the hunter.

“Why do you want to get married to my son ?!!” Mark asked, his voice curious as hell.

Harry smiled now, only a little but it did not reach his eyes.

“Are we really talking about marraige here, Mr. Tomlinson, or is there something else I might expect from you ?!!” Harry asked in return, trying to decipher what thoughts might be swirling in that shark mind.

Harry closed his palms together, waiting for the gleam to appear in the old man’s eyes. Yes, there it is, the greed taking over his face. Harry’s jaw ticked, caught you now, didn’t I?

“Am I to be expecting something ?!!” Mark asked, in return.

Satisfied with the question and how he managed to stir the conversation to his stride, Harry turned a little in his chair, his head tilted to the side, he stared at his secretary, Niall.

Niall in turn took in the silent approval of his boss, took out the five paged printed document out of his black case.

He put the papers on the table.

“Legal documents of the product, its formula, design of the cover, costs and prices that you lost the international deal in London last year.” Harry declared firmly, his voice never strayed a tone higher.

A minute later, the old man seem to come out of the trance.

His brows came together in a tense brooding. Surprised but a rather much more doubtful glide of emotion took all over his face.

“Why ?!! What’s in it to you ?!! How are you letting this go ?!!” He looked down at the papers again, and back at Harry’s face.

“I don’t think you should think twice with such a gold mine offer.” Harry’s eyes and voice turned as cold as an ice glacier.

“I rest my case then, I can’t let you get married to my son without you telling me what’s in it to you.” Mark countered his answer in a much sharper tone.

Harry sighed and shook his head.

“Well, you caught me, now,” Harry assented, his voice full of well deceited appreciation.

“I want to be the silent partner in this project. You were right that day, I couldn’t stand a chance in your terrioty, I need help.” Harry pushed a sore topic, where a weakness was hidden.