Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 31: Fallout VI

"Without my permission?"

Gianna could scarcely believe it. They took her designs without letting her know. They couldn’t even text her. They...

She shut her eyes, hating the feeling that came with the knowledge. They had no exclusive right over her designs, or hadn’t she made that clear the last time? How could they...

She shook her head, remembering Richard. That imp with the look of a snake. Was it any surprise?

"What did Arthur say?"

"Sir Arthur gave permission. I heard he thought it was a good idea. Mason and Daphne came in here to select one of the designs... I served as witness to make sure they didn’t tamper with any other."

But they already did, Gianna thought bitterly. Didn’t they look through each design critically while making a choice?

She looked at Lottie—really looked—and thought the receptionist was a good hearer. Maybe she would be a good weapon in her arsenal?

Lottie, thinking Gianna was contemplating doing away with her like Grace, looked down, her hands playing nervously with each other.

"Are there any other things you heard?"

Lottie shifted on her feet.

"You can speak freely..."

Gianna’s tone wasn’t as chilly as before, and maybe that was the necessary boost the receptionist needed to bolt out words, as was her specialty.

"I don’t think you will lose your job, that’s what I heard at least... The orders alone for the jewelry are fast becoming insane... it’s crazy how people want something when there’s some sort of trouble brewing around it or the maker..."

"Hmm... let me see..."

When Lottie handed her the tablet, Gianna held in the curse rising in her throat at seeing her design there—still rough. Wouldn’t people think it is low quality?

But then her eyes caught the number of orders. Her eyes actually widened.

"These are real numbers? Not clout?"

Lottie nodded. "See the amount they are paying... some are even tipping more, as if it’s an auction, just so they’ll get access to it first. It’s crazy, Miss Gianna. I think this is good, especially for the convention coming up, and for your reputation too..."

Now, when the petty receptionist put it that way...

Still, it shouldn’t have been done without her permission. She had to address it now, or else it would keep happening.

"Thanks, Lottie. Are they still in the boardroom?"

Lottie nodded. "Last I checked, five minutes ago. What are you going to do, Miss Gianna?"

Gianna looked at the receptionist again, almost chuckling at herself when she realized that this was the secretary she wanted—not a new hire.

"Lottie, can I count on you?"

Lottie bobbled her head immediately. "I can do anything you want, Miss Gianna. And I’m sorry for that day in the lobby... I just—"

Gianna waved it away. She didn’t want to hear it. She’d heard of sworn enemies becoming friends, had seen it in the past months. Compared to what the others had done, the receptionist’s pettiness was nothing.

"Good. I’ll see you later."

And then she was out of the office before Lottie could understand what was happening.

On the way to the boardroom, Gianna put together what she was going to say—an apology first for the rumors, then the matter of the jewelry. She inhaled as the elevator doors pinged open, cocking a brow when she met no guards on the floor.

Oh well. Better, she mused, knocking on the door.

"Come in."

She did, noticing the surprise on their faces—surprise that shifted immediately to frowns and scowls, with Richard even turning his nose up in disgust.

What? They would try to make it seem they weren’t profiting from the madness?

The apology flew out the window.

"I just saw my design on the website," she started, frowning. "Why is that?"

She held in a smile when the people started—Daphne especially—mild jerks here and there. They had thought she’d come to apologize, to beg for her job. Did they think she was that devoid of pride?

It was Arthur who cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "It had to be done."

"No. There was no need for that. And even if there was, I should have been informed. Or did I not read the contract well?"

Arthur sighed. "You did... but surely you can understand the crisis, Gianna..."

She did, but she shook her head. "The Becketts company wasn’t affected—not really. It was my own reputation on the line, which I cleared at the interview."

"And it was for your own reputation that the jewelry was put up, so people could see you weren’t dependent on Zane’s handouts. Didn’t you see the orders that rough sketch is racking up? Surely you can see your reputation is even better? It was a mutually beneficial concept."

The second time she was hearing mutually beneficial, and Gianna wasn’t sure she liked it.

"I see then. In case of next time, I would rather be informed before such decisions are taken, Mr. Arthur."

"Of course," Arthur agreed with a smile.

"My job..." Gianna asked, still riding on confidence. "Is it still available?"

Arthur looked at her like she was kidding, then seeing she wasn’t, he laughed. "Of course it is! Did you think we were going to sack you? Why then would we put up your designs—"

A last-ditch effort to make use of my talents maybe, Gianna thought. But she shrugged and thanked Arthur.

"Thanks for believing in me, I guess..." A pause. "If there is nothing else, I’ll return to my office and work on the design frantically... so it’ll be ready for the masses."

As she spoke, she met Richard’s gaze, making sure her eyes communicated the same venom running through her mind for the fellow.

Imp, she cussed, turning around to leave—before remembering something.

She turned again, pleased when they startled. Was she that scary?

"About my secretary... don’t worry about a new hire. I’ve found one. The receptionist in my office. I want her to stay as my secretary. Her name is Lottie."

Arthur nodded. "That’s good. Consider it done."

Outside the office, she met Esme just as the elevator doors opened, and wondered why the latter was on the floor. To meet with Arthur? For what?

Esme’s glare was the only thing she received as the woman walked past her, fuming.