The sales associate was completely dumbfounded. She hadn’t anticipated such a brazen move. Letting a dress worth over a million leave the store based on a child’s school ID was unthinkable. If anything happened, her salary could never cover the loss.
But refusing and potentially offending the powerful Eliot family was just as perilous. Torn with indecision, she watched helplessly as Isabella made to leave with the gown.
“Ms. Hewitt, I’m terribly sorry, but I must clear this with the manager. The value is simply too high. I hope you understand.”
She said.
Isabella looked at her with unveiled condescension. “Then go ahead and call. It’s just over a million. Do you really think the Eliot family would miss such a paltry sum?”
“Of course not…” the associate mumbled, hastily dialing her manager. She received a furious scolding over the phone, but the manager, equally unwilling to risk the Eliot account, ultimately gave permission.
Hanging up, humiliated, the associate turned back to Isabella. The disgust in her eyes was barely concealed, but she forced a tight smile. “You may take the dress, Ms. Hewitt.”
Isabella’s smirk only widened. “You see? That’s the difference between a manager and a mere salesgirl. It’s all about vision. You should learn from her.”
The associate bowed her head, muttering empty affirmations, but inside, she was seething. ‘You can’t even afford it herself. Just riding the Eliot family’s coattails. Who do you think you are?‘ She thought.
The moment Isabella left, the associate snapped a photo of her retreating back and sent it to the staff group chat, venting her full fury.
Meanwhile, at Turner Group. When Eliana arrived, the receptionist was already expecting her. Without a moment’s delay, she was escorted upstairs.
Inside the expansive office, Nathan was at his desk, seemingly engrossed in work. His gaze flicked toward her the moment. she entered, but he didn’t look up, maintaining the pretense of being busy.
Eliana took a seat quietly on the plush sofa, waiting without a word. Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan watched her. He swiftly cancelled his next few appointments. Only then did he finally stand up. “Ms. Lyons. Did you bring your sincerity?”
Eliana rose promptly, handing over a thick, neatly bound folder. “Mr. Turner. The business plan, execution strategy, and my three–year market forecast. Please take a look.”
Nathan accepted the folder but made no move to open it. He knew the reality all too well. After marrying Logan, Eliana had been forced into the role of a full–time society wife and mother, barred from the professional world.
The business landscape was a living, breathing entity that changed by the minute. Six years away from it was a lifetime. No matter how sharp she was, expecting a flawless, market–ready proposal was unrealistic.
But that wasn’t the point. Her being here, asking for his help–that was all that mattered. He didn’t care about initial imperfections. If she was willing to start over, he was willing to guide her every step of the way, to walk with her as she rebuilt herself.
The Eliana he remembered was brilliant. He didn’t know what had broken her spirit enough to marry Logan and bury her ambitions. But if she was ready to fight her way back, he would be there beside her. He looked at her, his gaze deep and contemplative.
2:25 am P
Chapter 24
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Seeing his hesitation, Eliana understood his skepticism. She couldn’t blame him. Anyone would think the same.
So, she wasn’t offended. Instead, she began to speak, calmly and clearly outlining her vision once more.
Based on my research into your current holdings, Mr. Turner, I believe this biomedical park project aligns perfectly with the goals of your pharmaceutical division.
“It bridges traditional medicine with innovative targeted drug development. Reducing our reliance on imported specialty medications… wasn’t that part of your original vision for entering the medical field?”
As she finished speaking, a genuine, surprised smile touched Nathan’s lips, and his eyes softened with unmistakable approval.
I underestimated her. Even after all these years, even covered in dust, she was still a pearl. When she set her mind to it, she could achieve in days what took others months. He thought and finally opened the folder to read.
When he finished, he had to admit it. It was a solid, strategically sound, and potentially lucrative proposal. He had thought she would need to lean on him heavily, but he’d forgotten–the Eliana he knew was a phoenix.
She only needed an opportunity to rise from the ashes on her own. His demeanor shifted to one of genuine professional engagement. “Your reasoning is sound,” he conceded. “But there’s one point I’d like clarified.
“Your projected market valuation and scale for Year Three. What dataset did you use for this modeling?”
Eliana’s heart tightened. Here it comes. The truth was, those numbers weren’t derived from any dataset. They were memories of a future that had already happened.
However, she had worked backwards last night to create a plausible, logical derivation. “Of course,” she said, reaching for her phone to pull up her notes.
As she tapped the screen, a new message notification from Sophie popped up at the very top. Her finger, moving to open her memo app, accidentally tapped the message. The chat window with Sophie opened instantly.
Sophie: [Mrs. Eliot, thank you so much! You know him best. I don’t think I’ll have trouble with the suits now. Whenever you have time for the food notes, please tell me. You really put so much thought into him.]
Eliana frowned, quickly exiting the chat. It was a minor, irrelevant distraction. She didn’t think Nathan would notice or care, and saw no need to explain.
She simply murmured, “Sorry,” switched back to her memo app, and began walking him through her calculations, step by logical step.
She spoke with focus and clarity, completely missing the sudden, icy shift in the atmosphere beside her.
AD
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
