Natalie shrieked loudly as Paul spat out his drink on her dress, her voice cutting through the noise of the lounge. “What the hell, Paul!” she screamed, frantically wiping at the stain spreading across her designer outfit. “Look what you’ve done!” “Hey, babe, calm down,” Tristan began in a bid to reassure her but she cut him short. “Don’t tell me to calm down!” She rose from her seat after saying this, and with a furious glare directed at Paul, she stormed off to the restroom to clean up herself . Meanwhile, Paul remained frozen in his seat, still clutching his phone tightly as if he expected Martha to call back and tell him it had all been a joke. Minutes passed without him getting a call back, and the reality of his situation sank in—He had been fired. His face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and confusion as he glanced at Adrian, who was watching him with an infuriatingly calm expression. “How did he know?” Paul whispered to himself in confusion, and his mind raced with the
Gasps filled the air, and all eyes turned to Natalie, who instinctively covered her wrist. Her face turned pale, and she glanced nervously at Tristan, who looked furious. “That’s ridiculous!” Tristan snapped, then his tone softened as he met Natalie’s gaze. “Babe, I assure you that this bracelet is genuine. I bought it from a reputable store!” Adrian’s smirk grew wider. “Are you sure about that, Tristan? Because it seems like your luxury purchase might not be as authentic as you thought.” Natalie’s gaze snapped up to Adrian, her eyes filled with exasperation as he defended Tristan. “This is absurd! There’s no way my boyfriend will get me a fake bracelet!” Adrian raised a nonchalant eyebrow. “Then explain the rash.” Tristan regained his composure and scoffed at Adrian. “You’re just making things up to mess with us because you can’t handle not being on our level, right? As a matter of fact, I bet that fake G****e assistant in your phone was manipulated to say those exact words. Your
Keaton whipped out a small bottle containing a clear liquid from his pocket. It was a special solution used by his uncle to verify the authenticity of jewelry during his novice days as an appraiser. He had passed it down to Keaton to use in the meantime, until he fully mastered the art of appraisal and could do it without the liquid. “This will tell us the truth,” he announced, raising the bottle to show everyone before he unscrewed the cap and carefully poured a few drops onto Natalie’s bracelet. Everyone’s attention was fixated on what he was doing, and almost immediately, the bracelet started to change color, turning a dirty green hue. Gasps echoed around the room, and Tristan’s face drained of all color. “T-that’s not possible!” he sputtered out, his tone tinged with disbelief and denial. “I bought it from a trustworthy jeweler!” Natalie’s face twisted with fury, her eyes flashing as she shot up from her seat and glared at Tristan. “You embarrassed me in front of everyone! No
Anita remained rooted to the same spot, her heart thumping in her chest as she tried to process what just happened. Her arm throbbed where Lilian’s nails had scratched her and she winced as she touched the blistered skin. She closed her eyes for a moment in a bid to steady herself. She hadn't expected Lilian to react so violently—after all, the decision to fire her hadn't even been hers. Finally regaining her composure, she picked up her bag that had fallen to the floor and turned to walk towards the elevator, but the burning sensation in her arm forced her to stop and wince. “Miss Davies!” A voice called out from behind her. One of the security guards who had helped drag Lilian out approached, holding a small white box in his hands. “Here ma’am, please use this,” he offered with a concerned expression as he opened the first aid box to reveal a few antiseptic wipes and bandages. “Thank you,” Anita murmured gratefully as she took the supplies from the guard. She sat on the edge of
Adrian’s temper flared as he saw Regina fall, her cry of pain sending a wave of protective instinct coursing through him. He stepped forward to help her, but she swatted his hand away and shot him a disgusted glare. “Don’t you dare touch me with your filthy hands. I don’t need help from a useless fellow like you,” she warned, her show of stubbornness doing nothing to hide the embarrassment on her face. Adrian stepped back in resignation and clenched his fist in frustration as he watched her struggle to her feet while clutching her back and wincing in pain. He couldn’t understand why she was being so stubborn when it was evident from the pained expression on her face that the fall had clearly hurt her. He kept his gaze on her for a bit longer to ensure she was now fully on her feet before he turned around and walked up to Zachary to confront him. Before he could say anything, Mr. Ben jumped in, his voice firm. “That’s no way to treat people, Mr. Manager! That woman did nothing wrong
After sending the text to Jonah, Adrian returned his attention to the standoff between Zachary and Owen. Zachary looked like he could shit his pants at any moment, and beads of sweat trickled down his temple as he tried to swallow the panic clawing at his throat. His mouth opened and closed with no words coming out because he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Owen loomed like a shadow over him, the menace in his posture unmistakable. His one good eye gleamed with dark intent as he repeated his question in a growl. “Zachary, where is my money?” Zachary’s hands trembled, and he took a shaky step backward, almost bumping into his bodyguards that now seemed powerless under the weight of Owen’s men’s menacing glares. He barely managed to steady himself as his mind scrambled for an excuse. He had gambled away almost everything he had garnered to pay Owen back—the embezzled company funds, and the money he had scammed out of unsuspecting customers in the name of an investment. His gr
Owen’s men tensed and released Adrian instantly as if they had been electrocuted by him. Jonah walked over to where Adrian stood and their eyes met in unspoken understanding before he turned his attention to Owen. Owen didn’t look like the intimidating mob boss he had been a few minutes ago. Instead, he looked like a man on death row, his one good eye widened in what looked to be alarm and even a hint of fear. He subconsciously did a double take while trying to control his heart rate that had picked up as a result of Jonah’s presence. “Mr. Leigh…” he breathed, his voice unsure. Jonah didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I’m glad you know me. No need for introductions then,” he stated, his gaze trained icily on Owen as he continued, “I’ll cut to the chase. This investment company is under the ownership of the Alpha Group, hence you have no business dealing with it. Zachary Lynn acted alone, so you will deal with him, and him only.” Owen nodded frantically. “Of course, of course…”
The receptionist, a professional looking young woman, momentarily glanced up in surprise at Flynn’s demand before her demeanor returned to its calm state. “Sir, Miss Smith is only to be seen by appointment.” Flynn’s face twisted with irritation, the receptionist’s calmness fueling his frustration. “I don’t need an appointment,” he snapped, his tone dripping with arrogance. “Do you even know who I am?”The receptionist’s blank stare made it painfully clear—she had no idea who he was. Beside him, Lilian’s expression mirrored her brother’s frustration. Her lips pressed into a thin line, clearly expecting things to have gone their way by now.Before Flynn could retort further, the sound of footsteps echoed through the lobby as a figure entered the reception hall. Adrian, calmly and confidently strode toward the receptionist’s desk, drawing the attention of Flynn, Lilian and the receptionist to himself. When Flynn’s eyes locked onto him, recognition flared in them, followed closely by a b