Chapter 33

Jonathan, of course, wasn't about to explain any of that to Charles.

The reason was simple.

Elena's relationship with her biological family was terrible. She clearly didn't want her father benefiting from her, nor did she seem interested in having the man interfere with her life.

If Daniel lost his job, he would almost certainly start pestering his daughter for money.

Leaving him exactly where he was—stuck somewhere in the middle, with enough responsibility to keep him buried under the weight of everyday life—was probably the best arrangement for everyone involved.

“Y-Yes! I understand! Completely!”

Charles was still thoroughly confused, but he didn't dare ask another question.

“Mr. Reed, don't worry. Daniel Hayes will receive exactly the salary he's supposed to receive at Westbrook. Nothing will change.”

“Good. Thank you, Mr. Whitman.”

The call ended.

Charles sank back into his chair, his mind racing through countless possibilities.

The HR director standing nearby cautiously asked, “Mr. Whitman… what about Daniel Hayes? Are we still firing him?”

“Fire him? Absolutely not!”

Charles slammed his hand down on the desk, still shaken by the call.

“Just pretend he doesn't exist! His performance reviews stay exactly as they are. Don't give him a hard time, and absolutely do not promote him!”

“Yes, sir!”

The HR director practically scrambled out of the office.

Once the room was quiet again, Charles picked up the cup of tea on his desk and took a large gulp of the cold tea. Only then did his thoughts begin to settle.

Jonathan hadn't said it outright, but Charles didn't need to be told whose orders these were.

This had to be Richard Sterling's decision.

He had no idea why Richard would take an interest in a low-level department manager, but if there was ever an opportunity to do something for the Sterling family, Charles would be more than happy to cooperate—even if they offered him absolutely nothing in return.

It wasn't about getting anything from them.

It was about making damn sure he never offended them.

Compared with that, what was Charlotte Whitmore?

Once Charles thought it through, a deeply contemptuous smile appeared in his eyes.

The Whitmore family might be one of the most powerful families in the area, with plenty of influence and connections, but standing next to Richard Sterling, the difference was enormous.

Even if Charlotte's father himself had called, Charles might have hesitated.

But Charlotte?

She was nothing more than a pampered heiress who spent her days shopping for designer bags and going to beauty appointments because her family had indulged her.

She didn't even hold a real executive position at Whitmore Developments. She had no actual authority.

A sheltered rich girl like that could throw a tantrum all she wanted, but what could she really do?

When it came down to the company's actual interests, did she honestly think her father would pick a fight with the Sterling family just because his daughter was angry?

That was ridiculous.

“Henry!”

Charles pressed the intercom and called his assistant in.

“Yes, Mr. Whitman.”

Henry Carter entered the office respectfully.

Charles gave a cold laugh.

“If that Whitmore girl calls again asking about Daniel Hayes, push back. Give her whatever explanation you can that falls within labor law. And if she tries to throw the Whitmore name around, tell her this—if she's so powerful, she can have her father buy the company.”

“Yes, Mr. Whitman.”

Henry immediately understood.

By early evening, Westbridge University was bathed in brilliant orange-gold light from the setting sun.

Elena had just finished her last afternoon lecture and was walking toward the south gate along the tree-lined path, her textbooks tucked against her chest.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

Richard:Your RS7 has been delivered to Westwood.

Richard:Come to the south gate.

Elena's mood immediately lifted.

She was still a little conflicted about accepting a gift this expensive, but then she remembered the diamond earrings worth several million dollars already sitting on her ears.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to NovelPhoenix for the genuine story.

That made it a little easier to accept.

She was just about to put her phone away when the screen lit up again.

Daniel Hayes.

Her biological father was calling.

Elena's steps slowed.

The original Elena had gotten into a huge fight with her father six months ago, and the two of them hadn't spoken since.

After hesitating for two seconds, Elena finally answered.

“Hello?”

“Ellie!”

The moment the call connected, Daniel's excited voice came through, practically overflowing with barely contained joy.

“You're not in class, are you?”

“…No. But I'm about to go get dinner.”

Daniel was clearly too caught up in his excitement to care about anything else. He couldn't wait to start showing off.

“I've got some huge news! This afternoon, the head of our Harbor City branch personally called me into his office. He asked about my entire work history, my family, everything. The way he was asking about me and checking in on my situation…”

Daniel paused dramatically.

“Ellie, I knew it! I'm definitely getting promoted this time! After all these years, I'm finally moving up!”

Elena understood immediately.

This was probably another butterfly effect caused by her actions.

Daniel clearly had no idea what was really happening. He didn't know they were simply checking into his background.

He was probably already imagining himself climbing the corporate ladder and finally making something of himself.

“Oh. Congratulations,” Elena said flatly. “Is there anything else?”

“There is! There is!”

Daniel hurried on.

“Ellie, your brother needs another round of treatment, and I'm also at a critical point with this promotion. I need to spend some money smoothing things over with a few people. I'm really tight on cash right now. Just give me some money to get through this period. Once I get promoted, I'll pay you back. I promise.”

Elena rolled her eyes.

“How much do you need?”

Daniel immediately brightened.

“Give Dad five hundred thousand dollars first.”

Elena: “…”

Even the original Elena wouldn't have given him that kind of money.

And where was she supposed to get five hundred thousand dollars?

Sure, she was wearing diamond earrings supposedly worth several million dollars, and she was about to have a luxury car delivered to her.

But technically speaking, there were still only two digits in her bank account.

Unless she sold the things Richard had given her.

Yeah, right.

“I don't have it.”

Daniel cleared his throat.

“Ellie, I know you don't have that kind of money. But your boyfriend does, doesn't he? He bought you those bags worth tens of thousands. And your shoes, your lipstick—your aunt said all of that costs a fortune. You—”

“They're fake.”

Daniel went silent.

Elena continued without missing a beat.

“They're all knockoffs. My boyfriend's family runs a counterfeit business. If you need some fake luxury goods to make yourself look important, I can ask him to send you some.”

“What?”

Daniel was stunned.

Then, clearly unconvinced, he said, “Ellie, that's not what you told me last time!”

The last time the original Elena had gone home, she'd been eager to show off in front of her father and stepmother.

When Daniel had asked her for money, the two of them had gotten into a huge argument and eventually parted on bad terms.

“That was because your wife was looking down on me and making all those sarcastic remarks,” Elena said. “I only said it to annoy her.”

Daniel took a breath.

“…Ellie, stop joking around with me. I know you have money. With your looks and figure, there's no way you couldn't find yourself a rich man.”

Elena said nothing.

“It's only five hundred thousand,” Daniel continued. “With your looks, your future husband would probably give you a few hundred thousand in wedding gifts anyway. He gives it to you now, and then he won't have to give it to you later. What's the difference?”

“Wait.”

Elena cut him off lightly.

“Didn't you just say you wanted to borrow the money? Are you asking me to give it to you, or are you asking me for a loan? And are you actually getting promoted?”

“That—”

Daniel faltered.

“It's a loan! A loan! I really am getting promoted soon. Once that happens, I'll have the money!”

His voice rose toward the end, as if he were trying to convince her as much as himself.

“Then…”

Elena deliberately paused.

“Write me an IOU. Since you're my father, I'll be generous. I'll only charge you one percentage point above the bank rate.”

Daniel froze for a second.

Then he exploded.

“What kind of nonsense are you talking about?! I'm your father! Of course I'm entitled to my daughter's money! And you actually want to charge me interest?!”

“So you say you're borrowing money, but you don't actually plan to pay it back?”

Elena gave a cold laugh.

“Then you're not borrowing. You're begging. Why dress it up and call it a loan?”

Daniel gritted his teeth.

“Don't give me that attitude! You're my daughter! You owe me—”

“Enough.”

Elena cut him off again.

“My mom carried me for ten months. My grandparents raised me. They were the ones who paid for my dance training, too. What exactly did you do besides contribute a few minutes of biological labor?”

“You!”

Daniel was furious.

“You ungrateful little brat! You think I never gave you anything? I paid your living expenses all those years! I gave you at least a hundred thousand dollars!”

Elena let out a cold laugh.

“When Grandma died, she left the house back home to me in her will. You sold it and told me that because I was still a minor, you were going to hold the money for me.”

Her voice sharpened.

“So where did that money go? I'll give you the hundred thousand you claim you spent on me if you give me back the money from the house.”

Daniel suddenly had nothing to say.

The house might not have been particularly valuable by luxury-property standards, but he'd sold it for eight hundred thousand dollars.

And he'd spent every cent.

Some had gone toward gifts for his boss. The rest had gone toward his son's medical treatment.

It was all gone.

“Jiang楚—”

Daniel's voice turned vicious.

“You little bastard! You damn bitch! I was my mother's only son. Everything she had should have been mine! Who knows what you did to manipulate her into leaving that house to you—”

“Oh, please!”

Elena immediately fired back.

“When Grandma was sick, I was the one who took her to the hospital. I was the one sitting beside her and taking care of her while she was there. Where were you?”

Her voice rose.

“You disappear whenever there's work to be done, but the second there's money involved, you're the first one to show up?”

She laughed coldly.

“You want a promotion? Keep dreaming. You'll never get anywhere. You're exactly where you belong—stuck at the bottom, pouring coffee and doing grunt work for the rest of your miserable life.”

The two of them continued shouting at each other over the phone without holding anything back.

The more Elena cursed, the better she felt.

She wasn't worried about making Daniel suspicious. The original Elena had argued with him plenty of times before. She was just a little more vicious with her words.

Besides, as long as Daniel still had his job, he wouldn't abandon his work and his son just to travel all the way to Westbridge and make trouble for her.

He was a department manager, after all. There were plenty of people who would happily take his position.

That made Elena even more fearless.

Daniel, on the other hand, was no longer young.

His blood pressure shot up, and his head began pounding as the argument dragged on.

In the end, he abruptly hung up.

Elena put her phone away.

Based on past experience, the old man would probably leave her alone for a while now.

Feeling refreshed, she smoothed her hair back and continued toward the gate.

Then she looked up.

Her footsteps stopped dead.

Without even realizing it, she'd walked all the way out through the south gate while arguing with her father.

And less than two meters away, parked by the roadside, was the black custom armored Rolls-Royce Phantom.

But the worst part was—

the expensive bullet-resistant rear window was slowly lowering.

Inside the dimly lit cabin, Richard Sterling sat in an impeccably tailored suit, one hand resting casually against the lowered window.

His handsome face revealed nothing.

But those deep, unreadable black eyes were fixed on Elena through the half-lowered window.

Elena: “…………”

Judging by how close they were—and how loudly she'd been yelling—there was a very good chance he'd heard every single word.