Chapter 2

The next morning at 9:00 AM, I was sitting in the Acting CEO office on the top floor of the Sinclair Group HQ—a place I had been away from for three years.

Chloe, on the other hand, didn't show up until 10:30 AM, yawning and clicking her four-inch Jimmy Choos down the hallway.

She was wearing the latest Chanel tweed suit, strolling leisurely as if she were at a mall, completely out of sync with the fast-paced, high-stress corporate environment around her.

"This is your desk."

I pointed to a small cubicle right outside my glass office.

It was usually the intern's desk. It had an open view, meaning she could see everything happening in my office, and I could watch her every move.

"This is the material you need to study and organize this week."

I signaled my assistant to dump a two-foot-high stack of documents on her desk. "It contains the basic operations and the financial reports of the past three years for our seven subsidiaries and thirty-six independent project departments."

"I expect a summary report from you in one week."

Chloe looked at the mountain of paperwork, her pretty face turning green.

"You expect me to sit here? To read this trash?"

She raised her voice in disbelief.

"Vivian, are you doing this on purpose? I am the Sinclair heiress! I am the future boss, not your personal assistant!"

"In this building, we only care about titles, not bloodlines."

I didn't even look up as I reviewed a quarterly report, signing my name in sharp red ink.

"Until you prove your worth with actual results, this cubicle is your starting point. Or, you can go ahead and ask Grandpa to pull you out of this evaluation right now."

She trembled with rage, but she didn't dare go to Grandpa.

She knew that if she got labeled as lazy and useless now, she would never get the inheritance.

She sat down reluctantly, grabbed a folder, flipped through two pages, and immediately pulled out her phone. Her fingers flew across the screen. She was probably crying about me to her wealthy friends in some group chat.

I ignored her.

A lion doesn't lose sleep over the opinions of sheep.

That evening, an important charity gala was held at the Ritz-Carlton.

I attended as the Acting CEO of the Sinclair Group. Chloe, however, attended as "the Sinclair heiress." She had been forced onto Carter's arm as his official date by his mother, Victoria Montgomery, a famously aggressive socialite.

Chloe floated around the room like a flashy butterfly. She clung to Carter’s arm all night, showing him off like a trophy. She made sure her voice was loud enough for everyone to hear as she announced her territory.

"Carter is so sweet to me. He said he was worried I wouldn't adjust to life back in the city, so he's going to personally take care of me from now on."

"Oh yes, our families are already discussing the wedding. It'll be happening very soon."

Carter’s face was visibly stiff. He maintained a polite but distant smile.

Because of family pride and the media cameras flashing around us, he didn't shake her off. But his tightly pressed lips and the annoyed, helpless glances he kept throwing my way betrayed his actual feelings.