King was a legend. The elusive master perfumer behind the luxury brand CC, she was renowned worldwide. From skincare to perfume and cosmetics, everything under her name was coveted by women across the globe.
But according to Nathaniel Fu's private investigation, King wasn't just a perfumer. She was also a pharmaceutical genius and had deep ties to Longtou Medical.
The only known photo of her had been taken in the Middle East during a deadly outbreak several years ago. While the region battled a new infectious disease, King had entered a sealed research facility to help develop a cure. The photo, blurry and taken from a distance, captured a slim figure in black, wearing a baseball cap with her face obscured—but hanging around her neck was a jade pendant.
It was the same pendant that had started everything.
Such a person was truly extraordinary.
And now… it seemed King wasn't just a woman—she might actually be his real wife.
"President," Secretary Song said respectfully, "Madam Fu from the capital insists that you find the true owner of the jade pendant."
Nathaniel sat in his chair, his expression calm but icy. He glanced down at the pendant in his hand. "Why is she so concerned about the owner of this pendant?"
"If King really is the one," Song continued carefully, "it makes sense. But the Madam didn't elaborate. She just emphasized repeatedly that whoever holds this pendant is your legal wife. You must find your real bride."
Nathaniel's gaze darkened. The charade with Celia was over. The game of mistaken identity was done. But now the matriarch was pressuring him to search for the real Mrs. Fu.
"Where's Sylvia?" he asked.
"She's still being held in the basement," Song replied. "She insists the pendant is hers and seems genuinely unaware of King's identity. We haven't been able to get any useful information out of her… but she's asking to see you."
Nathaniel scoffed. After learning about the impersonation, Sylvia had lost all value. The only reason he hadn't disposed of her entirely was because of Celia.
At that thought, his jaw clenched involuntarily. "No," he said coldly. "Let her rot there. If she has anything to say, she'll spit it out eventually."
"Yes, sir." Secretary Song paused awkwardly. Then, trying to hide his embarrassment, he added, "President, would you like me to get some ointment for… your neck?"
Nathaniel's sharp eyes narrowed.
The scratch left by Celia last night was still fresh—a crimson trail against his skin, too suggestive to be mistaken for anything else.
"No need."
Secretary Song immediately regretted speaking.
Just then, Zane Song burst into the office, practically glowing with excitement. "Nathaniel! I've got big news!"
Nathaniel frowned. "What is it?"
"What's going on between you and Celia? Everyone's been talking—"
"Don't mention her in front of me again," Nathaniel cut him off coldly. "We're finished. My grandmother wants me to find my real bride now."
"Real bride?" Zane blinked, then snapped his fingers. "You mean King, right? The top perfumer?"
"That's right," Secretary Song confirmed. "She's the one we've been looking for."
Zane smirked. "Why didn't you ask me earlier? I know who King is."
"What?" Both Nathaniel and Secretary Song froze.
Nathaniel's narrowed gaze locked onto him. "Who is she?"
"My mom has a skin condition—her face has been severely damaged for years. She's been begging to meet this mysterious King to get a custom formula. Guess what? She finally managed to schedule a consultation. King agreed to meet her today at the Chantilly Hotel."
Nathaniel's expression shifted instantly.
King was going to show herself?
"That's it!" Zane beamed. "Forget that Celia girl—she's nothing but a country stand-in. You deserve someone like King. Come on, let's go get your real bride!"