He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 76

The black Lamborghini came to a screeching halt at the entrance like a furious beast, drawing the stares of passing pedestrians.

Grant stepped out of the car, slammed the door shut, and strode aggressively toward the revolving doors.

Clarissa, the receptionist, looked up with a flawless professional smile and sized him up. His suit was impeccably tailored, his posture rigid, and his expression ice-cold.

"Sir, who are you looking for?"

"Lucas Lowery."

Clarissa's smile didn't waver. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"I apologize, but Mr. Lowery is not taking any outside visitors today. You can leave your business card, and we will..."

"I am Grant Gauthier."

Clarissa paused for a fraction of a second.

Grant Gauthier?

The Grant Gauthier of The Gauthier Group?! The one who was currently being dragged through the mud all over the internet.

Even though she was just a receptionist, she knew the complicated history between the Gauthier and Lowery families. If she didn't accommodate him, she could end up in massive trouble.

"So, do you have an appointment?" Who cared about their history anyway? She was just an employee doing her job.

Grant's expression stiffened, and his assistant, standing right beside him, felt completely embarrassed on his behalf.

But ultimately, his assistant stepped in to break the tension.

"Although we don't have an appointment, could you please call your boss?"

"Given the relationship between our two families, I'm certain Mr. Lowery will see us."

Clarissa hesitated, then picked up the internal phone and dialed.

"Mr. Lowery, there is a Mr. Grant Gauthier downstairs requesting to see you without an appointment."

The other end of the line was silent for about three seconds.

Then came a devastatingly flat voice: "I won't see him."

Clarissa hung up the phone, looked up, and maintained her standard smile.

"Mr. Gauthier, I'm sorry, but Mr. Lowery told you to get the hell out."

Grant's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Get out of my way."

Miller didn't budge an inch.

The slightly shorter guard beside him chimed in, his voice not particularly loud, but carrying far across the marble lobby.

"Mr. Gauthier, this is not The Gauthier Group. You can do whatever you want in your own company, but when you're here, you follow our rules."

His statement was perfectly polite, entirely bulletproof.

But nobody in the lobby was deaf.

Saying "you can do whatever you want in your own company" was a direct jab at how Grant threw his weight around at The Gauthier Group, acting like he owned the world.

And "when you're here, you follow our rules" translated quite simply to: Who the hell do you think you are?

The girls at the front desk ducked their heads behind their clipboards, their shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

Grant's typically noble, aloof face darkened like storm clouds right before a hurricane.