"Soo…" Crimson Night continued, "Anything you want to say regarding your mission, Northern Dark?"
Northern Dark flipped through a few papers and replied without looking up, "About that voice recording you asked me to review... I wasted my entire evening on it, but there wasn't anything worth my time, Head Crimson Night."
"That's exactly why I gave it to you," he added, placing the papers down. "In case you found something I didn't."
She smirked. "Honestly... I did find something interesting, Northern Dark."
"Good to hear, Crimson Night. In that case, I believe I may leave now," he said, hesitantly rising.
"Yes," she said casually.
He exited, sweat visible on his brow, his face a mix of relief and unease.
Meanwhile, inside the CEO's working room at Velvéra Fashion Company…
"Hello?"
"Hello, sir. This is the HR Director."
"Hi. I wanted to inform you that I'll be traveling to India for one to two months due to urgent property matters. I'll remain available for key decisions remotely. Also, I'd like my secretary to accompany me to assist with scheduling and coordination. Could you initiate the formal process and let me know what steps we need to follow?"
"Of course, sir. Since this is a long leave, we'll need to notify the board and prepare a formal leave plan. I'll also check the travel and remote work policy for your assistant, and loop in legal if necessary. We'll ensure everything is handled properly."
"Thank you." David ended the call.
"I suppose I should start looking at flights," he muttered.
"Yes, I agree, Mr. David," I replied, already pulling up travel sites, sitting on one of the settees in the middle of the office room.
Just then, David asked, "The name Franz Stedelen—it sounds Swiss."
I removed my glasses, wiped the lenses, and looked at him. "Yes. Franz's ancestors settled in India over a century ago. He holds Indian citizenship, but his father gave him a Swiss name."
David shifted his gaze to the laptop screen. "What about Elena?"
I adjusted my glasses over my eyes, "She's Swiss. A citizen of Switzerland, sir."
"Hmm."
"YAYA Company had several brands in Switzerland before the Founder's death. When the company faced a major crisis, it wasn't Franz—the heir presumptive—or the Directors who helped. They stood behind the Founder but did nothing. It was Elena Berge, head of Watch-Out Fashion Company, who supported the Founder. Because of her loyalty and efforts, the Founder handed the company over to her—just before he was murdered by his own son.
"But, what no one knows is that– he didn't hand over everything. The vast private land he owned—a property larger than the entirety of France—was signed over to his son, Franz. No one knows about it, not even Elena. That land is hidden from the world. Many top businessmen and political leaders have tried to get their hands on it. But since it's legally under Franz's name—and unknown to the public—no one has succeeded."
David leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "So… it reminds me of a quote I once heard." He paused, then recited with deliberate emphasis:
'I chose to forgive his failings, and my surroundings became bitter in heaven because I chose forgiveness and grace over resentment and bitterness. But I pray my child will not do the same for others, just as he did with me, and that his life is better for it.'
I clapped softly, impressed. "Oh my goodness… That was incredible, sir. The way you delivered that quote... outstanding."
"Thank you, Ms. Caroline Garnier. I appreciate that." Then his tone changed—sharp and direct. "Tell me more about that land."
"Franz built a Roman Catholic church on part of it. But the land was never officially donated to the Diocesan Authority. Despite that, local citizens worship there. The place has become sacred to them. Going against them would spark public unrest. Offering compensation wouldn't be enough. I recommend negotiating with local religious leaders and offering them an alternative site. If that's successful, we can then legally develop the land for company use."
"So… this will involve a major political and legal hassle?"
"Yes. But sir, it's a rare opportunity. And honestly, this may be the most peaceful and legal route to acquire such land, if you follow my approach."
He stared at me coldly. "I hope you won't disappoint me."
I smiled. "No, sir."
But deep inside, I was already smirking — Now, I won't hesitate anymore, Crimson Night. I'll strike from behind, using David, Franz, and Thomas as my pawns. Just wait... I'll crush and burn you from my side.
Just then — ding.
A new email notification appeared on the screen. I clicked on it.
Subject: Arrival of Madame Charlotte (CEO's Mother)
Hello Ms. Garnier,
I would like to inform you that Madame Charlotte, the mother of the CEO, has arrived at reception.
Would you like me to send her up to the office, or would you prefer to let me know after checking with the CEO?
Kind regards,
Claire Martin
Reception
Velvéra Fashion Company
Ext. 101
I turned to David. "Sir, your mother has arrived at reception. Should I ask her to come up now?"
He blinked in surprise. "She came so early? Yes, please. Have her come up."
I picked up the telephone placed on the tea table beside me and dialed.
"Hello, Mrs. Claire?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Please send Madame Charlotte to the CEO's office."
"Certainly."
Moments later, the sharp clicking of heels echoed toward us.
"Hey, dear. Long time no see," she said warmly.
I turned toward the door and saw her.
A middle-aged woman in a luxurious pitch-colored fur coat that trailed elegantly behind her. She wore a dark red silk blouse tucked into high-waisted black formal pants. Her blonde boy-cut hair glowed under the soft lighting. Purple lipstick curved around a poised smile. Her pale blue eyes—sharp, serious, and framed by dark circles—were fixed on her son.
That voice. That face.
My breath caught in my throat.
Yuneci Charlotte. The widow of my late biological father.
My ex-stepmother.
An icy chill ran down my spine. Why am I feeling so uneasy?
Is it because of the two enemies from my childhood now standing in the same room?