The sudden company meeting was about the Porthcawl Town project in collaboration with Holden Group.

Holden Group was in charge of development, while Zenith Media would handle marketing and publicity.

I joined Zenith Media five years ago through a campus recruitment. As a top-tier media and advertising company, Zenith Media's work was demanding, but the pay was excellent.

However, I told the Scotts that I worked at Zenith Media in a low-level position, earning a mere three thousand dollars a month.

Since Selene and Quincey already looked down on me, they firmly believed my words.

After the director, Trevor Hancock, presented the progress, he added seriously, "Pierce will be the person in charge of this project now. This is the first project he's handling as the successor of Holden Group."

Trevor then mentioned that Pierce was dissatisfied with the current proposal, and we needed to come up with two backup proposals. In two weeks, we would meet with Pierce for a review.

"Pierce is very particular about details and has slashed the budget quite a bit. Everyone, get your act together."

After the meeting, my colleagues gathered in the pantry, gossiping about the Holden family.

"I heard Pierce was disfigured when he was a kid, which is why he rarely appears in public."

"Disfigured? Who would dare do that to him?" one of my colleagues asked.

"I don't know, but my mom used to be a reporter. She once caught a photo of him going to the hospital, but the editor told her to delete it."

Another person chimed in, "Family feuds can get ugly. Pierce's sister's death is also suspicious. Why would a little girl be out by the beach in the middle of the night?"

"Mr. Holden has had three wives and four sons. Pierce is the youngest, but he became the successor. He must be something else."

"We should just stick to our own business. Mr. Hancock mentioned that Pierce is very picky."

I remembered the face I'd seen through the car window. Despite the scar, he was undeniably attractive. There was an enigmatic quality about him that made him impossible to read.

He was definitely not the easy-to-seduce man Quincey described.

While sipping my coffee, I instinctively opened my Instagram and saw that Quincey had posted a new set of photos.

She was wearing a Chanel outfit, enjoying red wine on a hotel balcony surrounded by large bouquets of flowers. In the frame were two foreigners with aristocratic airs.

The caption read, "The Etalvian vineyard sent over a 1982 wine. The wine's aroma filled my palate and nose with a romantic fragrance. Girls should really stock up on some premium wine."

Outside the frame, there were probably another ten or so well-made-up ladies waiting around.

The socialite training program students used standard props for photos—luxury cars, designer goods, jewelry, ocean-view apartments, and such.

The goal was to create an image of a good family background and high taste.

Wealthy people who didn't know the truth would inevitably be drawn to the pictures.

Also, to avoid being underestimated, they pretended to have thriving careers. Quincey's supposed role as a partner and visiting professor was nothing more than a fabrication by the training institution.

The agent sent me two more apartment listings to choose from. My savings were enough for me to buy a two-bedroom apartment near the company.

I needed to cut ties with the Scott family quickly in order to avoid dragging myself into their mess.

…

Three days later, Quincey's car crash video had gone viral.

The comments called her a once-in-a-lifetime natural beauty. Some even compared her to popular celebrities, saying that if she joined the entertainment industry, half of the female celebrities would be out of a job.

Then, people began sharing Quincey's Instagram photos, hyping up her family background and taste.

This made it almost impossible for Pierce not to notice her. Her fame was the best stepping stone to enter the Holden family.

I had to admit that the training program was impressively efficient.

After signing the purchase contract for the apartment, I returned to the Scott residence to pack my things.

When Selene opened the door, she looked me up and down with disdain and asked which slum I'd found to rent a place in.

Joshua didn't even glance at me. He was buzzing with excitement as he hovered around Quincey, like he'd just won the lottery jackpot.

"It's Pierce! He messaged me!" Quincey exclaimed. "Ms. Madden said if I could get him to make the first move, I'd be one step closer to my goal." Closing her eyes, she pressed the phone to her heart. After a few seconds, she finally opened the message.

The three of them stared at the phone, silent for a long time.

I put my suitcase down and walked over to take a look.

The message from Pierce read, "My car was sent back to the Sweloria headquarters for repairs. The cost is 8.57 million dollars."

Attached was a repair report written in Swelorian.

"How is this possible? How can it cost so much to repair a car?" Quincey zoomed in on the repair bill, carefully counting the zeros after the numbers.

Selene couldn't believe it, either. She even suspected that the message wasn't from Pierce but from a scammer.

Pierce's car was a Sweloria brand named Kronensieg. It was a bespoke sports car with only one in existence in the whole country. Most people wouldn't recognize it because it was so rare.

Zenith Media had worked with Kronensieg before, so I knew the selling price very well. It was 50 million dollars.

For such a top-tier sports car, a repair fee of eight million dollars wasn't surprising, especially with the added shipping cost to Sweloria for repairs.

While they were still debating the authenticity of the cost, Pierce sent another message. "Pay as soon as possible."

Now, there was no room for negotiation.

Quincey panicked immediately. Her face turned pale.

"He was supposed to ask me out to dinner. Why is he talking about the repair cost? How am I supposed to come up with that much money?" She looked at Joshua, seeking help.

Joshua finally remembered me. He comforted her by saying my car had insurance, and the insurance company would cover the costs.

"Commercial insurance covers up to three million dollars for third-party property damage, but that's still not enough," I said while pushing my suitcase toward my room.

"But I didn't have time to buy commercial insurance, so I only bought the basic liability insurance, which can cover only 200 thousand dollars."

I took a couple of steps and then tapped my head. "Wait. Quincey doesn't have a driver's license. In this case, the insurance company won't cover it."

My room was small. Other than the few dolls Mom had made for me, there wasn't much to take with me.

Just as I was about to leave my room, Selene blocked the door with one hand and glared at me fiercely.

"You're not going anywhere. That's your car. Even if Pierce calls the police, you'll be the one paying for the damages."

I had expected her to say that.

I took the vehicle registration from my bag, where Quincey's name was clearly written. This was thanks to Joshua.

The day I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles, he happened to come with me. While I went to the restroom, he had switched my documents with Quincey's, so the car was now under her name.

Since I was little, whenever our family got something new, Quincey had to be the first to use it. How could Joshua stand to have me own a car while Quincey didn't?

Selene immediately lost control, punching and kicking Joshua. "You useless idiot! You've ruined Quincey's life! Pierce is the heir of the Holden family. There's no way we can escape the compensation."

Joshua curled up, too scared to fight back. He stammered, saying that he never expected things to turn out like this.

At that moment, Quincey screamed, "Stop it! I'm going to call Ms. Madden. She'll know what to do."

The Ms. Madden she mentioned was Bianca Madden, the head of the socialite training program.

I had once seen her take a group of ladies, each with a unique style, into a luxurious club. Rumor had it that Bianca had a vast network. Several of her students had married big celebrities or wealthy bosses through her connections.

Quincey clung to the phone, as if it were her last hope, anxiously awaiting Bianca's response.

After a long wait, a sharp voice came through the phone, "Quincey, I really want to help you, but you still haven't paid off your tuition fees. Once you send over 300 thousand dollars, I'll tell you exactly what to do. I guarantee Pierce will do whatever you want."

Quincey agreed immediately.

As she nodded seriously while holding the phone to her ear, I pushed Selene aside and left without looking back.

They were beyond saving.

…

Two weeks later, I saw Pierce again in the company's conference room. Under the bright lighting, his scar was almost invisible.

To my surprise, Quincey had come with him.

She was wearing a Chanel suit with high heels, looking very much like a career woman. It seemed Bianca had come up with a plan for her.

I just wondered how Quincey had managed to scrape together the 300 thousand dollars for her tuition fees.

When Quincey saw me, she was momentarily caught off guard. But seconds later, she leaned into Pierce's ear and whispered something before arrogantly extending her hand toward me.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Mr. Holden's secretary. Please contact me if you have any concerns in the future."

Pierce had finalized the proposal, and it just so happened to be the one I had written.

After the meeting, he asked me to stay behind. He silently studied me from across the table. "You didn't go to the hospital that day?"

It seemed like Pierce had thoroughly investigated Quincey.

Quincey suddenly clenched her hand. She bit her lip before speaking up, "Mr. Holden, you really bring good luck. After seeing you that day, my sister's stomach pain just vanished. She was busy with work. So, she didn't go to the hospital."

Pierce lifted his gaze and gave Quincey a sidelong look. His fingers lightly tapped the table.

He grabbed the meeting minutes from Quincey's hands and casually flipped through a few pages. There were only a few lines of text on the first page, and the rest were blank.

Bianca's training program covered wine tasting, photography, skincare, makeup, and even male psychology, but it never taught Quincey how to be a competent secretary.

"You can't be a secretary. Think about what else you can do to offset the compensation costs," Pierce said, then turned to look at me. "Ms. Yasmine, would you be interested in working for Holden Group?"

He wasn't expecting an immediate answer. He stood up, adjusted his cuff, and handed me a business card. "Feel free to contact me if you're interested."

Quincey immediately switched to a pitiful tone as she apologized to Pierce.

Before leaving, she gave me a resentful glare.

…

After work, Joshua's calls came flooding in. "Quincey asked around at your company. You're making at least a million dollars a year.

"Now, your family's in trouble. We've sold the stores, and yet you're hiding away. Yasmine Scott, I've raised you for 29 years. You need to hand over your salary to me."

I put my phone down, letting him rant on the other end.

Selene cursed at me viciously, calling me a seductress who purposely tried to attract Pierce's attention.

Meanwhile, Quincey declared, "Pierce just wants you to do his bidding. I'm a thousand times more beautiful than you. There's no way he'd be interested in you."

I couldn't help but laugh in my head. Even now, Quincey was still competing with me over a man. And her only weapon was her face.

When they had run out of things to say, I picked up my phone and coldly replied, "Joshua Scott, my mom earned the house and stores. I haven't spent a single penny of yours since I was 14 years old.

"That car I bought is enough to cover the expenses before that. If you keep pestering me, don't blame me for exposing Quincey's true nature to Pierce."

After hanging up, I felt a surge of satisfaction.

The city lights outside the floor-to-ceiling windows had never seemed so bright and beautiful.

I didn't actually want to expose Quincey so soon. The deeper she got, the more entertaining the show would be.

At that moment, Trevor messaged me, saying that Pierce had designated me as the company liaison and that I would be attending the town project investment conference with him tomorrow.

At the same time, a financial news article caught my attention.

Lyon Group was inspecting the Porthcawl Town project and wanted to work with Holden Group.

The Lyon family was an old, prestigious family in the upper crust. If I remembered correctly, Pierce's wife in my previous life was none other than Scarlett Lyon, the daughter of the Lyon family.