Chapter 8

Instead of defending himself, Hector sneered. He glanced at the door and resisted the urge to remind them that the vice president was supposed to come pick him up.

“I can leave, but don’t beg me to come back,” Hector said, his expression serious. “Sending me away might make you regret it.”

Colt burst into laughter, his voice echoing around the room. “Regret it? Me? Have you ever made me regret anything in my life? Why would I ask you to come back? Do you think you are that special that I would beg for you to return to where you aren’t even wanted?”

Hector’s frown deepened but he clenched his fist and kept quiet instead. After all, he had nothing to say to Colt. When Colt was tired of speaking, he would be quiet.

“You’re too foolish to think I’d ever ask you to return after getting kicked out. It’s laughable that you believe that’s even possible.”

The receptionist felt a pang of awkwardness for Hector. She couldn’t understand why he remained there, seemingly unfazed by the treatment he was receiving. She felt a twinge of sympathy for him but was also concerned about her own job. She couldn't afford to act rashly.

Colt held more power than her in the company and she couldn’t go against him.

“You’re still as arrogant as ever!” Colt shouted. “But this time, I’m the one in a higher position. My level is something you’ll never reach! You should leave before I call security.”

Before Hector could respond, the vice president arrived. Her slender legs looked long in her fitted pants, and her flowing hair framed a strikingly beautiful face. The receptionist’s nerves were on edge at the sight of the vice president. She was worried about getting scolded since Hector was still there.

“What’s going on here?” the vice president asked, her brows furrowing in concern.

Colt turned to face her, adopting a polite smile that didn’t quite match his earlier demeanor. “There’s nothing wrong,” he said smoothly.

Hector rolled his eyes at Colt’s rapid shift in attitude. He glanced at the vice president, wondering if she was the one supposed to pick him up, given the respect they were showing her.

“Okay, if there are no problems, that’s good,” she said, meeting Hector’s eyes briefly before looking away.

Seizing the opportunity to ingratiate himself with the vice president, Colt moved toward her. “Is there anything you need, Vice President? I can assist if necessary and I am good at my job. I’m one of the best employees—”

Before he could finish, the vice president walked past him, ignoring his offer. Colt’s face paled in shock as he realized his smile had been disregarded.

Hector struggled to keep from laughing out loud, and Colt shot him a glare. Hector gave him a look that read ‘I thought you said you were important’.

“What brings you here, ma’am?” the receptionist asked, her gaze silently pleading for guidance.

“Has anyone by the name of Mr. Henderson arrived?” the vice president, Sheila, asked.

At the mention of his name, Hector realized that Sheila was indeed the person sent to pick him up.

‘The vice president looks younger than I thought she would.’ Hector thought.

The receptionist shook her head. “No one by that name has shown up today.”

Sheila glanced at Hector again, then looked away. “Are you sure? He doesn’t know his way around here, and I’m supposed to meet him.”

Hector stood silently, a grin spreading across his face. He decided to keep his identity concealed for now, curious to see how his classmate would react.

“He hasn’t been here, ma’am,” the receptionist said, her voice tinged with anxiety about her job. “I will surely know if he had been here.”

Sheila’s expression grew confused. She pondered why the man wasn’t present, especially since the president had personally called her. Clearly, the person she was looking for was important.

Her gaze shifted back to Hector, and then to Colt.

Colt’s face was a picture of panic, trembling as he processed the information. He realized that Hector’s name matched the one Sheila was searching for. Could Hector actually be connected to the vice president?

Colt glanced at Hector, and the sight of his self-satisfied grin sent a shiver down his spine. He quickly looked away, convinced that Hector could not be the person Sheila was looking for. Their names must be a coincidence.

Seeing Colt’s reaction, Sheila stepped closer to them. Folding her arms, she looked up at Colt. “Given your reaction, do you know who Mr. Henderson is?”

Colt flinched, sweat dripping from his forehead. “Henderson?” he stammered.

“Yes,” Sheila confirmed. “It seems like you’ve seen him.”

Hesitantly, Colt pointed toward Hector. “His surname happens to be Henderson. But I think there must be a misunderstanding. There’s no way the vice president would be looking for someone like him.”

Sheila didn’t waste any more time on Colt. Her attention returned to Hector. She scanned him from head to toe, trying to confirm if he could be the person she was supposed to meet. “Are you Mr. Henderson?” she asked calmly.

Colt’s disbelief was evident as he watched Sheila address Hector with respect.

“There must be a mistake, Vice President!” Colt interjected before Hector could reply. “He’s not the person you’re looking for. Look at his attire! He doesn’t even have nice shoes. He also arrived on a scooter and appears to be just a delivery man.”

Sheila turned her gaze sharply toward Colt. “I would prefer if he answered the question himself,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Colt’s teeth were clenched in frustration as he stepped back, clearly annoyed that Hector was receiving attention he felt should be directed at him. “Okay.”

“Are you Mr. Henderson?” Sheila asked again, her gaze holding Hector’s and a serious look on her face.

With a sneer, Hector nodded. “I am Mr. Henderson. I’m indeed the person you’ve been looking for.”