Chapter 6

​A sharp, incredulous laugh broke from Valerie’s lips as she stared at the man claiming to save her family. Her hazel eyes burned with a mixture of bitter humiliation and lingering trauma.  

​“Do you find this funny?” Valerie demanded, her voice cutting through the evening air like a blade. “Does my family look like some kind of pathetic joke to you and your nephew? You must have looked at me like a complete fool this whole time, didn't you?”  

​Christopher opened his mouth, his usual unshakeable composure wavering for the first time. “Valerie—”  

​“What incredible bad luck!” she snapped, the anger she had swallowed all day finally erupting. “One nephew ruins my life, and now the uncle struts in playing the saintly philanthropist here to rescue us! Leave!”  

​“V-Valerie, I—”  

​“Get out!” she shouted, pointing a trembling finger toward the gates. “I don't want to hear a single word from you! Leave!”  

​Without waiting for his response, Valerie spun around and slammed the heavy front door, her heels echoing angrily down the corridor as she stormed into her room.  

​Outside on the driveway, silence fell like a heavy sheet of ice. Christopher stood frozen, his extended hand dropping slowly to his side. The lingering warmth on his face dissolved into a cold, terrifying mask of absolute frost.  

​Beside him, Luke shivered violently, taking an instinctive step backward. The air surrounding the CEO felt cold enough to freeze water.  

​“S-Sir... the meeting...” Luke stammered, his teeth practically chattering in fear.  

​“Reschedule it,” Christopher said, his voice flat, dangerously quiet, and devoid of emotion. He turned toward the sedan, his eyes pitch-black. “Find out everything that happened to her over the last five years. Every detail. And I want a complete breakdown of Trevor’s personal involvement in sabotaging her family’s credit lines by midnight.”  

​“Right away, Mr. Blackwood!”  

​Upstairs in her bedroom, the quiet ticking of the wall clock was the only sound breaking the dark. Valerie paced across the plush rug, her anger slowly ebbing away, replaced by a sudden, sinking weight in the pit of her stomach.  

​She paused, staring at her own reflection in the vanity mirror.  

​What on earth did I just do?  

​She had literally just screamed at, insulted, and thrown out the Chairman of Blackwood Enterprises—the one man in the entire city with the absolute power and capital to save her family from total ruin overnight.  

​Throwing herself onto her bed, she buried her face in a pillow, tossing and turning in sheer mental agony.  

​Should I call Ethan? she pondered briefly, staring at her phone screen. No... Ethan is currently overseas managing his own firm, and he has no business ties in this city. Besides, the kids are staying with his estate right now. I can't drag him into this mess.  

​“Aarrgh! Valerie Sterling, why are you such an utter idiot?!” she groaned aloud, kicking her feet against the mattress in frustration.  

​A soft tap sounded on her bedroom door. “Valerie, sweetheart? Are you alright in there?” her mother’s gentle voice called out.  

​Valerie sat up quickly, smoothing her hair. “Yeah! I’m fine, Mom!”  

​From down the hallway, her younger brother Christopher’s casual voice floated up the stairs. “Isn't she supposed to be at the corporate design office today? She’s going to be late!”  

​Valerie’s eyes shot open as she glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand. Eight-fifteen!  

​Scrambling out of bed, she moved with lightning speed. She threw on a tailored blazer, grabbed her leather portfolio, snagged a single green apple from the dining counter without stopping, and bolted out the front door, leaving her family blinking in surprise.  

​By the time Valerie sprinted into the glass lobby of Blackwood Enterprises, her watch read 8:50 AM. She was precisely twenty minutes late on her second day.  

​To make matters worse, as she hurried toward the design department's glass doors, a middle-aged senior manager named Mr. Duke stepped out, blocking her path with his arms crossed over his chest.  

​“Well, well. Miss Sterling,” Mr. Duke sneered, his voice dripping with condescension as he adjusted his glasses. “Twenty minutes late? Do you think because you secured one preliminary proposal yesterday, the strict rules of this conglomerate no longer apply to you?”  

​Valerie lowered her head, taking a deep breath to

her professional decorum. “I apologize , Mr. Duke. There was an unexpected delay this morning. It won't happen again.”  

​“An apology doesn't fix company discipline!” Mr. Duke barked loudly, puffing out his chest to impress the surrounding junior staff. “In this department, punctuality is—”  

​Suddenly, the private executive elevator chimed down the hall.  

​The heavy atmosphere instantly shifted. Christopher stepped out into the corridor, flanked by his assistant and secretary. His dark hair was immaculately combed, his charcoal suit flawless, but his expression was as distant and unreadable as an icy mountain peak.  

​Mr. Duke’s tirade froze mid-sentence. Absolute terror gripped the senior manager as memories of yesterday flashed in his mind—specifically, how Christopher had personally awarded Valerie’s team the 1-billion-dollar project.  

​“M-Mr. Blackwood! Good morning, sir!” Mr. Duke bowed so low his nose nearly touched his knees, sweating profusely as he braced for a severe reprimand.  

​Christopher didn't even slow his pace. He swept past them as if Mr. Duke were made of glass, his dark gray eyes flicking over Valerie for a brief, fraction of a second before he vanished into the executive wing without uttering a single word.  

​As the sound of the CEO's footsteps faded, hushed whispers instantly broke out among the gathered onlookers.  

​“Look at that... she was acting all high and mighty yesterday, but the CEO completely ignored her today!”  

​“She must have offended Mr. Blackwood after the meeting!”  

​“I heard rumors from her old social circles... they say she’s a loose woman,” a female assistant whispered behind her hand.  

​“Right? There was even a rumor back then that she slept with ten different men in a single night!” another added with a quiet snicker.  

​Valerie kept her expression perfectly blank, ignoring the venomous gossip. She turned to Mr. Duke and offered a polite nod. “If you'll excuse me, I need to get to my desk.”  

​“Hold on! Did I say you could leave?!” Mr. Duke snapped, emboldened by the fact that the CEO had ignored her. He stepped forward aggressively. “Do you think just because our CEO spared you a glance yesterday, you can behave however you like? From now on, you'll be answering directly to—”  

​BZZZ.

​A sharp, distinct chime cut him off. Mr. Duke stopped, pulling his phone from his pocket. It was the high-priority alert tone he had custom-set for the CEO’s executive assistant.  

​He tapped the screen. The text message was brief:

​[Executive Office]: Mr. Duke, report to Human Resources immediately to process your severance payment. You are terminated effective now.

​Mr. Duke’s face turned ghostly white. Panic surging through him, he instinctively reached out to grab Valerie’s arm to beg her to intercede with the CEO.  

​Before his fingers could even touch her sleeve, a second notification flashed on his screen:  

​[Executive Office]: If your hands touch Miss Sterling, your career in this city won't simply end with getting fired.

​Mr. Duke gasped, stumbling backward in sheer horror. He looked at Valerie as if she were a walking landmine, turned around, and practically ran down the hallway, leaving the gossiping staff standing in stunned, absolute silence.  

​Unbothered by the sudden departure, Valerie walked into her department suite, gathered her team, and apologized gracefully for her tardiness. Within minutes, she immersed herself completely in the complex architectural blueprints of the project, forgetting the morning's drama entirely.  

​Once Valerie locked into her work, the world ceased to exist. She possessed a notorious bad habit: when engrossed in a project, she completely ignored lunch, refusing to touch a drop of water until her drafting goals were met.  

​Meanwhile, on the top floor, the atmosphere inside the CEO's office was bizarrely tense.  

​Christopher sat behind his sprawling executive desk, slowly spinning his leather chair back and forth. His dark brows were tightly knitted together in profound concentration.  

​Luke stood nearby holding a stack of weekly division reports, assuming his boss was mentally strategizing for the high-stakes board presentation scheduled in ten minutes.  

​Then, a low murmur broke from the CEO’s lips.  

​“She said 'bad luck'...” Christopher muttered, his tone carrying an unprecedented level of genuine, existential confusion. “Does my face actually look like bad luck?”  

​Luke blinked, his jaw dropping slightly. Sir... you are a literal billionaire titan, not a curse!  

​“Sir,” Luke cleared his throat carefully. “The weekly  board meeting is about to start. We should head down now.”  

​“Right,” Christopher answered absentmindedly, rising from his chair and buttoning his jacket.  

​Inside the grand conference room, dozens of department heads sat stiffly, terrified after hearing the morning news that Mr. Duke had been summarily fired before nine in the morning.  

​The presentation began. Christopher listened quietly, but as the clock ticked past noon, his gaze drifted toward the window.  

​Suddenly, in the middle of a senior director’s revenue presentation, Christopher pulled out his personal smartphone—breaking his own ironclad corporate rule against phone usage during board meetings.  

​The presenting director instantly went mute, turning pale as a sheet, convinced he was about to become the next victim of the CEO's wrath.  

​In reality, Christopher wasn't looking at stock charts. His long fingers were rapidly typing a bulleted list into his notepad app:  

​Crispy glazed duck with plum drizzle

​Steamed truffle dumplings

​Sweet peach green tea (less sugar)

​Braised lotus root

​Satisfied with the list of Valerie’s absolute favorite comfort foods—which he had learned years ago —he locked his phone, stood up abruptly, and adjusted his cuffs.  

​“Meeting over,” Christopher announced coolly.  

​Without another word, he strode out of the room, leaving thirty high-level executives gaping in complete astonishment that the notorious workaholic CEO had just terminated a mandatory meeting halfway through.  

​Luke hurried after him into the private hallway. “Sir! Is there an emergency meeting?!”  

​“Have Grace personally prepare these items from the Grand Hotel kitchen,” Christopher commanded, handing Luke his phone. “Tell her to deliver it directly to the design department’s reception desk.”  

​Luke looked down at the luxury lunch menu on the screen, his soul weeping internally for his boss. These are all her favorite dishes... the almighty Chairman of Blackwood Enterprises is hopelessly, tragically down bad.  

​“Also,” Christopher added as he stepped into his office, “get me her personal cell number.”  

​“Sir... it’s listed on page two of the hiring dossier I gave you yesterday,” Luke replied dryly.  

​Christopher paused, clearing his throat smoothly. “Right.”  

​By the time the private courier delivered the thermal mahogany lunch box to the design floor, it was well past two in the afternoon. The hallways were quiet, most employees having already returned from their lunch breaks. The courier simply left the package with the floor receptionist, mentioning it was for Miss Sterling, and departed.  

​When Valerie finally stretched her aching shoulders and walked out to get something to eat, the receptionist pointed to the elegant box.  

This is for you

​Surprised, Valerie carried the heavy container back to her desk. Balancing the box in one hand, she dialed her mother’s number with the other.  

​“Mom?” Valerie asked softly as the line connected. “Why didn't you text me when you dropped off lunch at my office building?”  

​“Delivered lunch?” her mother replied, sounding bewildered. “Sweetheart, I didn't drop off any lunch. I’ve been at the office all morning.”  

​Valerie blinked. “Wait... wasn't it you? Then maybe Dad or Julian?”  

​“Maybe I haven't spoken to them for some hours now. They’ve been in the conferenceroom for a while"

​“Oh... alright. I’ll call and ask later,” Valerie said, hanging up the phone.  

​Unpacking the thermal box, her breath caught in her throat. Arranged neatly inside were four dishes—every single one of them her absolute favorite comfort foods, prepared with exquisite culinary precision.  

​Assuming her younger brother Julian had simply ordered it via a delivery service to surprise her, Valerie’s hunger got the better of her. She dug in happily, savoring every single delicious bite until the containers were completely empty.  

​Wiping her lips with a napkin, she let out a satisfied sigh.  

​Just as she set her chopsticks down, her phone screen lit up on the desk with a text from an unlisted, private number:  

​Unknown: Did you enjoy the lunch?

  

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