Chapter 9
After Heath wrapped up the meeting and headed back to his office, the office erupted in chatter.
I heard Mr. Moody’s a real hard–ass” one colleague whispered. “Doesn’t even show mercy to his own father. The guy’s ruthless–he climbed to the top in just a few months!”
Julia, overbearing this, crossed her arms and smirked. “Of course. My cousin’s no slouch.”
“What?” The office went quiet, then everyone exploded in unison. “Mr. Moody is your cousin?”
Suddenly, all eyes were on Julia like she’d just dropped a bombshell
Julia soaked it all in, enjoying the attention. She flashed a sly smile. “Yep, we’re family.”
It was part truth, part exaggeration, but not completely a lie.
Her aunt had married into a branch of the Moody family, and she was particularly close to Muriel. So calling Winston her cousin wasn’t entirely out of line.
Her colleagues, eager for more, started firing of questions about Winston. Julia, wary of spilling too much, kept her answers vague. Still, her evasiveness somehow earned her a wave of compliments.
Chelsea, who’d been quietly listening. had heard enough.
Julia was going on about her cousin, saying he was good–looking but had a terrible temper-“stay the hell away from him.”
He’d studied abroad, earning two master’s degrees from top universities.
By this point, Chelsea was sure it couldn’t be Winston.
Winston had casually mentioned that there had been some family drama during his grad school years, and besides, there was no way he could be Mr. Moody. The two were nothing alike.
In her mind, Winston might come off cold, but he had a warm heart. Mr. Moody, on the other hand, besides the same last name, was practically a different species.
Julia probably expected Chelsea to join in with some flattery, but instead, Chelsea just packed up her things and left without saying a word.
“Has Chelsea given up on Mr. Watts’s project?” someone asked, clearly curious
“She should take a look in the mirror before trying anything” another person sneered.
“I heard about that plagiarism scandal–how’s she even still in the game?” someone else muntered.
Julia walked out of the office and immediately dialed Margot. “Margot, did you make sure Mr. Watts’s been informed
“Relax, my dad already called. If Mr. Watts doesn’t want to piss off the Wise family, he won’t touch Chelsea’s designs.” Margot replied confidently.
A mischievous grin crept onto Margot’s face as she added. “By the way, I heard there’s been some drama at Nova Group. Didn’t affect you, did it“.
Margus and Julia weren’t just friends–they were linked by shared interests and plenty of personal gain.
“My cousin’s in charge now. What could possibly go wrong for me?” Julia chuckled lightly. “Til introduce you to him sometime”
“Sounds good,” Margot said, hanging up. She then handed a design draft to her father, Drogo. “Dad, here’s the design. Take a look
Margot had to pull together a new design after Chelsea’s was taken, and Drogo glanced at it quickly.
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. Compared to Chelsea’s natural talent, Margot’s design was mediocre at best.
Drogo, who’d always been protective of Margot, hesitated before finally saying. “I remember that design the head of the design department showed me–it was a lot stronger. Let’s go with that one.”
His words were polite, but the message was crystal clear–this draft wasn’t making the cut. And the design he was referring to? Chchea’s
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Ad–Frem Reading:
Chapter 9.
Margot clenched her fats, forcing herself to stay composed. She bat her lips, applying just enough pressure to keep herself in check. “Got it,” muttered through gritted teeth.
Back in her office, Margot angrily threw the tile onto her desk. Is my design really that bad? Why the hell are they so obsessed with Chelsea’s work?” she thought binerly
Outside the office, the secretary shook her head thinking. Does she really think that because Ms. Wise is getting sidelined, she’s going to take over! What a joke:
Chelsea had been waiting outside the Wants Group building for hours, her patience running thin as the night crept in
Finally, Cecil showed up, and Chelsea moved toward him quickly. “Mr. Walls, can we talk!”
“Chelsea Wise?” Cecil said, recognizing her immediately. “You still want me to use your design?”
Chelsea’s face paled slightly, but she held her ground. “Yes, Mr. Watts, I know the Wise family is putting pressure on you, but chance.
u, baut T’m asking for o
She needed to make a mark, something that would bring the Wise family down. Without that, everything she’d worked for would be a waste.
Cecil was a man who only cared about power and profit, and Chelsea had done her homework. He didn’t care who he hurt as long as the deal right–he’d probably turn on his own father if it meant making a buck.
Clearly. Cecil hadn’t expected Chelsen to come to him directly. He studied her for a moment, his gaze roaming. She was stunning–and more itun a linle useful
“Alright” he said slowly, his voice laced with interest. “I’ve got a big deal tonight, and I’m short an assistant. Help me close this deal, and I’ll think. about using your design. How’s that sound?”
Chelsea knew exactly what he was playing at, but she had no choice. “Fine”
Cecil liked people who didn’t waste time. He led Chelsea to the car and handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s the rundown for tonight’s dinner. Pay attention to the details and don’t screw it up.”
Chelsea glanced over the paper quickly. “Got it.”
He signaled the driver, and they headed off
401
When they arrived at the restaurant. Cecil pointed at the top two buttons of Chelsea’s shirt. “Unbutton those”
Chelse thing.
face flushed with a mix of surprise and discomfort. She had stayed out of the spotlight for so long, and events like this weren’t exactly her
Tonight, dressed in a black–and–white suit, she knew that unbuttoning her shirt could lead to some unwanted attention,
Cecil raised an eyebrow “Not gonna do it!”
Chelsea gritted her teeth, then reluctantly unbuttoned just one button. “Two would be too much. One’s enough”
Cecil didn’t press it. He just stepped out of the car.
Chelsea followed him into the restaurant, where the private room was already packed with people.
“Mr. Watts, you finally made it.”
“Mr. Watts switched assistants? This one’s a real looker
The moment Chelsea walked in, she could feel a pair of eyes on her–eyes full of greed and something darker.
Cecil casually introduced her. “This is my assistant, Miss Chelsea Wise”
After Cecil took his seat, Chelsea sat beside him. What was supposed to be a business meeting quickly turned into a drinking session.
Cecil, claiming he wasn’t feeling well, avoided alcohol, leaving Chelsea as the easy target for the group’s attempts to get her to drink.
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Chapter 9
The other executives, clearly in the mood for some fun, didn’t hold back. “Miss Wise, since Mr. Watts can’t drink, why don’t you step in for him?” one of them joked.
Chelsea picked up her glass and began to toast each of them. She had a solid tolerance for alcohol–by the time the first round was done, she hadn’t even blinked.
She kept the conversation flowing, charting about business and the latest gossip in the industry. She might not go out much, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a pro at this
Cecil, watching her closely and casually spinning the ring on his pinky, thought to himself. This woman–she’s got guts, and she knows her shit. Definitely someone worth keeping around.
A few rounds in, even Chelsea, with her impressive alcohol tolerance, began to feel the effects. That’s when one of the men, clearly drunk, slipped his arm around her waist and leaned in with a smirk. “Miss Wise, you’re way too pretty to be just an assistant. How about-
Despite the buzz in her head, Chelses kept her composure. She smoothly moved his arm off her chair and replied with a polite but Erm tone. “Mr. Robinson, let’s stick to business, okay? We’re here to discuss the deal, not personal matters,” she said, her voice even, but unmistakably clear.
Stewart, clearly annoyed by the brush–off, pulled back, frustration evident on his face.
“I believe Mr. Robinson is married, and I’ve heard Mrs. Robinson is quite fond of you. You wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings, would you?” Chelsea responded coolly, not backing down.
His face darkened, and he pulled his hand away. “Mr. Watts, your assistant is something else. She knows a lot for just a damn assistant,” he muttered, clearly annoyed.
Cecil glanced at Chelsea, his tone icy. “What the hell are you waiting for? Apologize to Mr. Robinson.”
Chelsea knew Cecil was pushing her on purpose, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She grabbed her glass again, her voice steady despite the tension. “Mr. Robinson, I apologize, she said, with just a hint of sarcasm.
Stewart wasn’t done. He grabbed a bottle of top–shelf whiskey and shoved it in front of Chelsea. “If you really want this deal to close, drink this,” he challenged, clearly trying to get a reaction.
The whiskey was much stronger than she’d expected, and Chelsea had already had her fair share of drinks that evening.
She glanced at Cecil, who was watching her closely, his eyes dark with something unreadable.
This is just a test; she realized. If I want this deal, I’ve got to play along!
Taking a deep breath, Chelsea picked up the bottle. “So, if I drink this, you’ll sign the contract?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with a hint of defiance.
“Yeah,” Robinson said with a smug grin clearly thinking he had her cornered.
Without hesitation, Chelsea downed the whiskey in one go. Instantly, the burn hit her throat, and her head spun. But she refused to let them see
her alter
Cecil, clearly surprised by her toughness, opened his mouth to say something when his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen, his expression flickering with recognition. It was Winston–Winston never called unless something important was going down.
Without missing a beat, he answered the call. “Winston, what’s up?” he asked, his tone shifting to one of businesslike urgency.
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