Chapter 8: Nephew's Wife, How Do You Want Me to Help You?

When Arabella reached the private dining suite, Director Finn had just arrived.

She scanned the corridor, her brows furrowing. Beta Richard had arrived at the lobby earlier, so why wasn't he here? Had he gone straight up ahead of her?

Pushing her confusion aside for the moment, Arabella stepped forward with a welcoming smile.

"Director Finn, you mentioned wanting to try the local delicacies of the capital, so I've arranged everything for tonight. Please, right this way."

Director Finn was a rugged, broad-shouldered man with a protruding belly, wearing heavy black-rimmed glasses that gave him an unassuming, grandfatherly appearance.

Seeing Arabella, he chuckled heartily. "You've really gone out of your way, Miss Arabella."

His small eyes narrowed into slits, making him look like a cunning, calculating fox. One look told you he was a tough negotiator who wouldn't be easily swayed.

Maintaining a flawless, polished smile, Arabella guided Director Finn into the suite.

"Director Finn, our Beta Richard values this partnership immensely. He cleared his entire schedule for tonight specifically to share a few drinks with you."

Director Finn slapped his ample stomach, roaring with laughter. "Hahaha! Did Richard really say that? Don't string me along."

Having spent three full months chasing this account, Arabella knew his personality inside and out.

She flashed a charming smile. "Those were his exact words, Director Finn. If you don't believe me, you can ask him yourself the moment he walks through that door."

Director Finn laughed heartily, clearly in high spirits.

The two chatted effortlessly, the atmosphere warm and relaxed.

Moments later, they reached the reserved VIP dining room.

Director Finn stepped inside, expecting to see Beta Richard waiting, but the room was completely empty. His smile instantly froze on his face.

"Arabella, where is Beta Richard? Hasn't he arrived yet?"

A prickle of unease washed over Arabella. Even though Richard wasn't in the room, she had weathered enough corporate storms to keep her expression entirely composed.

"Director Finn, he hit some heavy traffic on the way over, but he'll be here shortly. Have a seat and enjoy some tea while I step outside to check on his ETA."

Director Finn's expression softened slightly. "Ah, very well."

Stepping out into the hallway, Arabella retreated to a quiet corner and immediately dialed Assistant El’s direct line.

It rang three times before the line finally connected.

Checking her watch, she saw it was already 8:20 PM—well past their agreed-upon start time.

"Assistant El, didn't you say Beta Richard had already arrived at the building? Why isn't he here?"

Assistant El stammered on the other end, struggling to put a sentence together.

"Madam Luna... um, the Beta, he..."

Arabella’s heart skipped a beat, a cold premonition rushing straight to her head.

"Assistant El, did Richard leave?"

After two seconds of heavy silence, Assistant El whispered, "Yes, Madam Luna. An urgent pack emergency came up, and the Beta said he couldn't stay for dinner with Director Finn. He told you to take full charge of the contract."

Arabella’s face drained of color, pure fury surging into her clear eyes.

"Assistant El, you've dealt with Director Finn before—you know his temper! He despises broken promises. If Richard bails on him now and this nine-figure deal falls through, three months of grueling work by our entire team goes down the drain!"

"You know how vital this contract is! What on earth could possibly be more important than this?"

The line remained dead silent for a long time.

Finally, Richard’s cold voice cut through the receiver.

"Arabella, Celeste's prenatal aura is destabilizing. I'm afraid the pup is in danger, and I have to go to her immediately."

"I know this collaboration with Director Finn is important, but you've handled this account for three months. I trust your capability to close the deal without me tonight."

"Arabella, thank you for your hard work."

The breezy, dismissive final sentence landed like a detonating bomb inside Arabella's ear.

The shock left her ringing, her soul fracturing into pieces!

*It's Celeste again.*

*Always Celeste and that unborn pup...*

A bitter, freezing draft swept through the corridor, making her entire body shiver.

She gripped the phone so hard her knuckles turned stark white, her eyes burning with unshed, humiliating tears.

"Nephew's wife, did my foolish nephew bully you again?"

A familiar, low voice drifted from behind her.

If you listened closely, a subtle thread of genuine pity laced the tone.

Hearing that voice felt like a drowning person suddenly catching hold of a lifeline in the middle of a churning ocean.

Without even turning around, Arabella stumbled backward directly into Samuel’s chest, burying her face against his coat and clutching tightly to the fabric of his lapel.

She lifted her head, her reddened eyes flashing with desperate resolve. "Samuel, help me. Please!"

Catching sight of those tear-rimmed eyes, a sudden pang of nostalgia hit Samuel. She looked just like a little white rabbit he used to care for, staring up at him with innocent, misted eyes whenever she wanted comfort.

A wicked, roguish smirk touched his lips. He reached out, his thumb catching her chin and tilting it downward as he pressed a lingering, soft kiss right over her trembling lips.

Pulling back just a fraction, he blew a warm breath against her ear. "Nephew's wife, how do you want me to help you?"

The lingering heat of the kiss still warmed her lips, while the redness in her eyes faded into pure, icy determination.

Breathing heavily, Arabella clutched his collar tighter. "I need you to step in as my superior tonight and help me lock down this contract!"

Director Finn had never met Richard in person and had no idea what he looked like or how he acted.

Besides, Samuel was Richard’s uncle, and the estate belonged to both branches of the family—Samuel even held an executive title as a senior leader within the corporate hierarchy.

Director Finn only asked to meet their superior, without specifying *which* one.

Since Richard didn't care about this nine-figure deal, she would hand the glory—and the leverage—to Samuel instead.

Samuel’s dark eyes flashed with an amused, dangerous light, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Nephew's wife, I'm entirely at your command."