The morning sun filtered through the high glass windows of the EL Group headquarters, illuminating the sleek chrome and dark leather of the executive floor. For the past week, Chrystlene had traded the quiet solitude of the estate study for a front-row seat at the heart of the family business.
She sat at the end of the long mahogany conference table, scrolling through a financial report on her laptop. Beside her, Grandfather EL was quietly sipping his black coffee while reviewing the agenda for the morning's emergency board meeting.
You know, Chrysty's voice came through soft and reflective in their shared mind space, it still feels strange seeing you sit in that chair. I used to dread coming to this office. Every time I stepped in here, Second Uncle and the directors made me feel like an outsider.
Chrystlene adjusted her navy blazer and picked up a pen. "People only push you around if you give them room to do it. You don't need to apologize for taking up space in your own company."
I guess you're right... Chrystlene, Chrysty said softly, the name lingering in the air.
Chrystlene paused for a fraction of a second, a slight, approving smile touching her lips at the change in address. "Glad to hear you finally say my name."
Well, Chrysty chuckled quietly, we share a body and a name now. Calling you 'General' all the time feels a bit too formal for two people living in the same head, don't you think?
"Fair enough."
The heavy double doors of the boardroom swung open, cutting off their internal conversation. A dozen board members walked in, their low murmurs dropping to an awkward silence the moment they noticed Chrystlene sitting right beside the patriarch.
Among them was Assistant Director Meng, a sharp-faced man in his late forties who had taken over Director Vane's responsibilities after his abrupt resignation. Meng tried to maintain a calm, professional posture, but his eyes darted nervously toward the stack of files sitting neatly in front of Chrystlene.
"Good morning, Chairman. Miss EL," Meng said smoothly, taking his seat across from them and opening a polished leather folder. "Today's main agenda is the Q3 distribution contract with our overseas freight partners. As you know, with the recent leadership transition in the shipping department, we need to finalize our logistics vendor by the end of the week."
Grandfather EL nodded, leaning back in his leather chair. "Go on, Director Meng. What are our options?"
Meng cleared his throat, pulling out a thick proposal. "We have received a strong bid from Apex Freight. They are offering a discounted rate on long-distance shipping, provided we sign a three-year exclusive deal today."
Before Grandfather EL could speak, Chrystlene tapped her pen against her tablet, her voice clear and measured.
"Apex Freight isn't an option, Director Meng," Chrystlene said calmly, leaning forward.
Meng stiffened, adjusting his glasses. "Miss EL, Apex is one of the largest carriers in the region—"
"Apex is currently under investigation for tax fraud in two neighboring ports," Chrystlene interrupted, sliding a printed document across the table toward him. "Their discount sounds generous on paper, but if their ships are impounded midway through the quarter, EL Group will be stuck paying penalty fees to our retail clients for delayed shipments. That three-year contract would lock us into a sinkhole."
Meng stared at the document, his throat suddenly dry. "Where... where did you get this information? The port authority hasn't released a public statement yet."
"I spent yesterday afternoon reviewing public registry filings and international customs logs," Chrystlene replied simply, her dark eyes steady and unreadable. "It took twenty minutes on a laptop. If our research team didn't catch that, I suggest you re-evaluate who is preparing your briefings."
A wave of quiet whispers broke out among the board members. Several older directors nodded in silent agreement, looking at Chrystlene with newfound respect.
Grandfather EL hid a proud smile behind his teacup. "It seems my granddaughter has saved us from a costly mistake. Reject the Apex proposal, Meng. Bring us a vetted, secure vendor list by tomorrow morning."
"Y-yes, Chairman. Right away," Meng stammered, quickly pulling the proposal back.
After the meeting adjourned and the boardroom cleared out, Grandfather EL turned to her, his warm eyes full of pride. "You handled that cleanly, Chrystlene. No uneccessary drama, just pure facts."
"It's just common sense, Grandfather," she said with a soft laugh, closing her laptop. "If you want to run a business, you have to do your homework."
Later that evening, Chrystlene returned home to find Lailac waiting by the entrance, holding a small, elegant black envelope sealed with gold wax.
"Young Miss," Lailac said, handing her the envelope with a polite bow. "This arrived by private courier an hour ago. It's addressed directly to you."
Chrystlene took the envelope, turning it over to break the wax seal. Inside was a heavy card made of thick, high-end parchment with crisp, handwritten calligraphy:
Miss EL,
A private charity auction for the City Heritage Foundation is being held this Thursday at the Grand Bay Club. I believe a conversation regarding modern shipping networks and mutual interests would be far more productive over dinner than on a quiet terrace.
Looking forward to your presence.
— Roy Vanguard
Chrystlene held the card in her fingers, a faint, intrigued smile curling her lips.
Roy Vanguard again? Chrysty murmured in her mind space, her tone curious rather than panicked this time. He's not even hiding his interest anymore, Chrystlene.
"It's better when people are direct," Chrystlene said, walking over to her desk and sliding the invitation into her bag. "Let's see what Mr. Vanguard actually wants to talk about."
Chrystlene set the card back on her desk, the gold-embossed lettering gleaming under the soft lamp light.
Are you actually going to go? Chrysty asked, stepping forward in their shared mental space. Her phantom expression held a mix of fascination and caution. Roy Vanguard isn't like Second Uncle or those corrupt board members. He didn't build his empire by taking foolish risks. If he's reaching out, he definitely wants something.
"Of course I'm going," Chrystlene said, relaxing back into her leather office chair and resting her chin on her hand. "Ignoring an invitation from a man who controls half the trade routes in the region would just be bad business. Besides, it's better to talk face-to-face than guess what he's planning from behind a desk."
You've really adapted to all of this so quickly, Chrysty murmured, a gentle warmth in her tone. A few weeks ago, I was terrified of even stepping into the main office building. I thought everyone was smarter and more capable than me but watching you handle Director Meng today... it felt like watching someone effortlessly untangle a knotted thread.
Chrystlene looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers slightly. "You always had the authority, Chrysty. You just lacked the confidence to enforce it. People in business—or in life—will test your boundaries until you show them where the wall is."
I guess so, Chrysty chuckled softly. It just feels good to watch them back down for once. Jurianna hasn't even dared to show her face near the estate since the banquet.
"And she won't," Chrystlene replied smoothly. "Because she knows her tricks don't work anymore."
A gentle knock at the study door interrupted them. Lailac stepped inside, carrying a small silver tray with a pot of hot chamomile tea and a fresh evening schedule typed neatly on a card.
"Young Miss," Lailac said respectfully, placing the tray beside the desk. "The tailor called to confirm your fitting for Thursday evening. Should I tell them to prepare a formal gown, or would you prefer another suit?"
Chrystlene picked up her teacup, taking a small sip before glancing toward the window. The city skyline was fully lit now, a sparkling grid of glass and steel stretching toward the horizon.
"Tell them a gown," Chrystlene decided, a quiet, amused spark in her eyes. "A dark red or charcoal one will do. If we're going to a charity auction at the Grand Bay Club, we might as well look the part."
"Right away, Young Miss," Lailac bowed, a subtle smile touching her lips before she quietly exited the room.
A gown this time? Chrysty teased lightly.
"Dress for the terrain," Chrystlene replied with a light shrug. "A suit was perfect for taking control of the boardroom. But for a black-tie gala with Roy Vanguard? Sophistication works much better than aggressive posture."
She took another sip of tea, her eyes lingering on the black invitation card resting beside her tablet. The stage for Thursday night was set, and for the first time since coming to this era, Chrystlene was genuinely looking forward to the challenge.