Heartstrings on Fire (Agnes and Jared)

Ryder approached Peter with a nonchalant stride, casually asking, "You alright there?"

Peter was taken aback. He hadn't expected Ryder to show any concern, especially with his eyes cold as winter frost, sending shivers down Peter's spine.

Struggling to keep his composure, Peter stuttered, "I'm fine, thank you, Mr. Whitfield, I—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Ryder's fist shot out, knocking Peter to the ground once again.

The onlookers were completely flabbergasted. What on earth was going on?

Agnes stood there, she was shocked.

Ryder looked ready to throw another punch, but Agnes stepped in front of him.

It wasn't out of pity for Peter.

Ryder had been nursing an injured hand, with a metal brace still embedded in the bone. He'd been practically immobilized for months, unable to make any major moves.

Agnes, worried about his condition, grabbed Ryder's arm urgently, "Enough, Ryder. Think about your hand. He's not worth it."

Peter was as confused as he was hurt. But it didn't take long for the gears in his head to turn.

It became clear that Miss Pritchard must hold a special place in Ryder's heart.

He cursed his luck. Of all the women to take a fancy to, he had to choose the big boss' lady.

Ryder was no ordinary Joe. He had parachuted into the Tim Group just a few months back, and right off the bat, he snapped up twenty percent of the company's shares, becoming its top dog. Everyone knew about his ties with Jared-they were brothers in arms.

Now, Ryder was on the rise, acquiring companies, investing in Starling City, cozying up to major shareholders, and quietly amassing a portfolio of smaller stakes.

With a board meeting just days away, the buzz was that Ryder would likely be the next chairman. And if his tactics against Jared were anything to go by, Peter knew he was dealing with a ruthless man. So, even as he nursed his bruises, Peter didn't dare retaliate. Instead, he was all apologies, practically groveling, "Mr. Whitfield, I'm sorry. Please forgive me this once. I'll apologize to Miss Pritchard. It won't happen again."

Ryder's response was icy, "Go to HR tomorrow and resign. I don't want to see your face around here ever again."

"Mr. Whitfield, please, give me another chance," Peter begged, almost on his knees. He had clawed his way up the corporate ladder for years, and now it could all vanish in an instant. Pride was the last thing on his mind.

But Ryder was unyielding, "Don't make me repeat myself. If I see you at the company again, it won't just be termination. I'll blackball you in the industry so thoroughly, you won't find a decent job anywhere." Agnes, overhearing this exchange, felt a sense of déjà vu. Hadn't Jared said something similar to Yolanda Bowman once? Why did these two men handle conflicts so similarly, even down to their tone of voice? Without another word, Ryder turned to Agnes and said, "Let's get out of here."

The private room was a mess, but with things having escalated to this point, Agnes didn't bother with the chaos and followed Ryder out.

Peter collapsed back into his chair, while everyone else exchanged puzzled looks.

Someone whispered in disbelief, "Who the hell is this Mr. Whitfield?"

A couple from the marketing department murmured, "Could be the next chairman of the Tim Group."

Shock rippled through the room.

Agnes stepped out of the Caesar International Hotel and saw Ryder's car parked curbside, with his driver, old Marv, waiting patiently inside. Ryder's expression was still stormy as they approached the sleek vehicle.