This man!
He sweet-talked her one second and threatened her the next when things didn't go his way. Typical manipulative capitalist behavior.
"If I say no, then it's no. No one can force me!" Celia snapped.
Nathaniel's dark, narrow eyes narrowed further. The girl in front of him wasn't easy to read. It always felt like she was hiding behind a veil—mysterious, unreadable.
"Celia, I heard King was the one who arranged for you to join CC. Do you know King? Who is King?"
Celia knew he had been searching for King. But she would never reveal her identity.
"I don't know King," she replied smoothly. "I'm just a nobody from the countryside—a poor girl with no background, no identity, no talent. I've only heard the name King like everyone else."
Nathaniel stared at her, skeptical. "Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Celia, I suggest you don't lie to me. If you do, I'll uncover every last secret—even your dirty little tail."
Celia pushed him away and hopped down from the desk. "Mr. Fu, I have other things to do. If you'll excuse me."
"Think carefully, Celia," Nathaniel said calmly. "Stay with me for half a year. I'm waiting for your answer."
Celia turned and walked away without replying.
As soon as she left, Secretary Song stepped in.
Nathaniel's voice dropped coldly. "Have someone investigate Celia. I want everything—her entire life from childhood to now."
"Yes, President."
"Also—did Wang Manni enter my office just now?"
Secretary Song hesitated. "I believe… she did."
"Inform her she doesn't need to come in tomorrow."
Secretary Song: "…"
Did Miss Celia offend Secretary Wang? Or… did Secretary Wang offend Miss Celia? Did the president just fire his secretary for her?
Secretary Song broke into a cold sweat. From now on, he'd better treat Miss Celia like royalty—one wrong move, and he might be next.
That night, Rosalie didn't sleep a wink. She was too excited—she was finally going to meet Mrs. Fu.
She had spent hours preparing a special gift: a handmade sachet. She had blended the scent herself and sewn the pouch with her own hands. It was full of care and sincerity.
Her efforts were widely praised at CC. Zhao Qian couldn't stop gushing over it.
"Wow, Rosalie, your sachet smells amazing! You're a true perfume genius. Mrs. Fu is going to love it."
"I wonder what Mrs. Fu is like… She's the president's mother—she must be super elegant and refined."
"Well, let's stop imagining. We won't get to meet her. Only Rosalie gets that honor."
Rosalie beamed with pride—until she saw Celia walking in.
Her smile stiffened for a split second.
Rosalie instantly recalled the old lady who had gifted Celia a 12-million-dollar Ferrari the day before. She didn't know who the woman was, but clearly, she had dared to stand up for Celia—publicly.
Still, Rosalie quickly masked the hostility in her eyes and gave a sugary-sweet smile.
"Celia, you're here. Did you find yourself a new godmother or something? You know, there are a lot of scammers out there these days. Don't be so gullible that you help someone count their money after they've sold you out."
Celia met her gaze calmly. "Isn't the worst person already standing right in front of me? Who could top that?"
Rosalie: "…"
Zhao Qian jumped in, "Rosalie, why are you even talking to this clown girl from the countryside? Celia, you jealous? Rosalie's going to the Fu family's old estate tonight to meet Mrs. Fu."
Meeting Mrs. Fu?
Wait a minute—didn't Mrs. Fu say last night that Mrs. Song was coming over with some friends?
Could those "friends" be… Rosalie?
What a coincidence.
Rosalie doesn't even realize she's already met Mrs. Fu.
Celia's lips curled into a smile, sweet but laced with irony. "Then I wish you good luck tonight, Rosalie."