Chapter 173 Grace Under Fire
[
BONUS
Chapter
for reaching 200 GT! Thank you all! 🤍]
=== 🤍 ===
[EVE]
Sullivan crossed his arms, his tone sharp as he glared at me. "Are you here because of my father? Does he know you're here? Is this your plot to get him to like you? By wanting to strike a deal with QuantumLyfe?"
I raised an eyebrow, but before I could respond, he continued, his voice low and accusatory. "I'm warning you now, Eve—stop manipulating my father and stay the hell away from our family."
"I have no idea what Mr. Sinclair was thinking when he adopted a woman of unknown origins into your family," one of the men sneered, loud enough for everyone in the lobby to hear.
Another man chuckled darkly. "What else could it be? She's probably his mistress."
My anger flared, hot and sharp. I didn't care what insults they threw at me—people had been whispering behind my back for years—but dragging Sinclair's name through the mud was a line I couldn't let them cross.
I forced a calm smile, keeping my emotions in check. Losing my composure here would only hand them the victory.
"I am Sinclair's adopted daughter and nothing else," I said, meeting their condescending gazes head-on. "You should know your father isn't some lecherous man, Sullivan. Over the years, he has remained loyal to your mother. Not once has he been seen with another woman, and you know that."
Sullivan's lips twisted into a mocking smirk. "Oh, really? I don't know my father anymore. First, he let you squanders our money. Then, he adopts you. And what's next? Making you his
whore
?" Discover more content at empire
The word hung in the air like a slap, the men around him laughing cruelly.
"If you're not manipulating my father and warming his bed," Sullivan added with a sneer, "then explain why he'd do all that for you."
"Exactly," another chimed in, giving me a lewd look. "We're men. We know how men think. We don't give anything without getting something in return."
Their laughter grated on my nerves, but I refused to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, I crossed my arms and straightened my posture, projecting confidence.
"It's simple, really," I said coldly. "Sinclair values competence, which is why he trusts me. He doesn't care about anything but results. That's evident in the fact that he made Victor the company president instead of you."
Sullivan's face turned red, his composure cracking. "Are you implying I'm not competent?"
"Your words, not mine," I replied, my voice cutting. Then I turned my gaze to the rest of them. "And as for you gentlemen—do you have any proof to back up your disgusting claims? Any at all?"
The men exchanged uneasy glances, their bravado faltering.
"You don't, do you?" I continued, my tone growing sharper. "Because it's not the truth. What you're doing isn't just insulting me—it's slander against Sinclair himself. And in case you hadn't noticed," I gestured to the security cameras positioned around the lobby, "this entire conversation has been recorded. The audio is crystal clear. I could sue you all for defamation. One word from Sinclair and that could happen. Do you really want the old man's wrath upon you?"
Their smugness evaporated as their faces paled. One of them tried to counter, his voice shaking with frustration.
"Listen here, young woman. Who do you think you are to threaten us? Do you have any idea who we are?"
"I don't care who you are," I cut him off, my voice firm. "But I do know what you are—grown men ganging up on a teenage girl in public. Have you no shame?"
At my words, whispers rippled through the lobby. Bystanders who had been pretending not to notice were now openly glancing at Sullivan and his group, their disapproval clear.
A few even snickered, pointing fingers as the men shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the attention.
"Miss Rosette," the receptionist's calm voice interrupted, "Mr. Blair will see you now."
Sullivan's head snapped up, his disbelief turning into outrage.
"What? Why does she get to go first?"
"We've been waiting for weeks to meet with him!"
"That's right! She just got here!"
The receptionist didn't so much as blink at their protests. "It was Mr. Blair's specific request to see Miss Rosette."
The room fell silent, the men's confusion and anger palpable. Sullivan's face contorted in fury, his lips pressing into a thin line.
I smiled sweetly at them, lifting my hand in a small, mocking wave. "
Toodles~
."
Without another glance, I strutted toward the elevator as if it were my personal runway. As the doors closed, I caught a glimpse of Sullivan's livid, confused expression.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om
Of course, he was fuming. He couldn't fathom why Michael Blair would choose to meet with me first. But then, how could he know? After all, I secretly
own
the company.
Inside Michael's office, I found him hunched over a mountain of papers, his hair disheveled and his glasses slightly askew. The faint glow of a desk lamp highlighted the deep furrow in his brow as he scribbled furiously, barely noticing my entrance.
When he finally looked up and saw me, a sigh of relief escaped his lips. "You finally decided to show up," he said, his tone laced with mild exasperation. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten this is your company now."
I crossed the room and sank into the chair opposite him, crossing my legs with practiced ease. "How could I forget? Most of my money is tied up here," I replied with a smirk, feigning nonchalance.
Michael didn't buy it. "Then do something about it," he said, gesturing to the towering pile of documents. "You're here now. These papers are your responsibility."
My face immediately fell. "Seriously? I just got here! I barely survived a kidnapping attempt, just finished cramming for my exams, and now you expect me to deal with this mountain of paperwork?"
He shrugged, already rising from his chair and moving with purpose. "That's the job,
boss
," he said, emphasizing the last word with a teasing grin. "I've got a lab to get back to."
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