Chapter 271

Sarah's self-introduction was perfect.

An elite academic background, experience at major companies, technical expertise, business acumen.

Every single point was impressive enough on its own.

Sure enough, as soon as she finished speaking, suppressed whispers rippled through the conference room.

Many colleagues, especially the younger ones who didn’t know the inside story and were judging purely based on first impressions, began to look at Sarah differently.

The initial coldness and scrutiny had shifted to surprise, curiosity, and even a hint of admiration.

She came prepared, alright.

This outfit, this speech—it was all part of the elite persona Sarah had crafted for herself, meant to offset the negative perception of being parachuted in,and perhaps even to outshine me.

Emily pinched her thigh hard under the table to keep from rolling her eyes.

William's face remained expressionless, but his eyes grew colder.

I stayed calm.

I should have seen this coming.

Sarah was never someone easy to deal with. If she dared to show up here, she would undoubtedly bring out her strongest credentials to prove that she wasworth George’s five hundred million dollars—and worthy of being part of this project.

The meeting continued, assigning specific tasks and responsibilities.

Sarah was assigned to assist Emily in organizing and archiving all historical technical documents, market analysis reports, and meeting minutes related to the project.

In other words, glorified grunt work.

Sarah listened quietly, but the smile on her face gradually became harder and harder to maintain.

After the meeting ended, people left one by one.

Sarah stayed in her seat. Once most people had left, she stood up and walked over to William.

"Mr. Jones," she said with a polished smile, though her eyes held a barely detectable hardness, "where's my office? I need a relatively quiet, private space to handle some materials."

William was packing up his laptop. Without looking up, he replied coldly, "You don't have a private office. Your desk is in the open office area outside, by the window."

He pointed through the glass wall toward the open office area, to the most remote corner right next to the printer and break room where people constantly passed by.

Sarah followed his gesture, and her smile froze instantly. Then she laughed bitterly.

"Mr. Jones, you're saying I sit there?" She pointed at the noisy corner, her tone full of disbelief and sarcasm. "That's the best spot?"

Emily happened to walk by just then and immediately chimed in with an innocent smile, "That's right, Ms. Wilson! That's the best spot we have—great lighting, good ventilation, close to the break room so getting water is convenient, and near the printer too so you don't have to walk far to print documents! How thoughtful!"

Sarah nearly choked on Emily's string of compliments.

She caught the sarcasm in Emily's words, and her face darkened.

She whipped around to face me, her eyes sharp, filled with accusation and barely contained anger. "Grace, you promised George you'd make proper arrangements for me. This is your idea of proper arrangements?"

"Grace, you're being petty. I'm telling George."

Watching her lose her composure, I found it almost laughable.

I calmly closed my laptop, looked up to meet her gaze, and said coolly:

"Ms. Wilson, you're mistaken."

"Of course I'll properly arrange for you to join the project team. I always keep my promises, unlike some people who like to play dirty tricks."

I paused, watching Sarah's expression change abruptly, then continued in the same calm tone, "However, while I'm leading this project, the real boss of Star Tech is Mr. Jones."

"Administrative matters like seating arrangements and office resource allocation are naturally decided by Mr. Jones. Wherever Mr. Jones tells you to sit, that's where you sit. What's the problem with that?"

William, Emily, and I had an unspoken understanding.

Letting Sarah join the project team was part of the deal.

But once she was in, she had to play by our rules.

Want to touch core technology? Don't even think about it.

Want to act arrogant? Even less possible.

Sarah clearly saw that we were deliberately making things difficult for her, intentionally humiliating her.

Her fake smile vanished completely. Her eyes turned cold and sharp, filled with undisguised hatred and mockery as she stared at me:

"Grace, I came to Star Tech to be a key team member, to create value, not to serve you tea and water or be your errand girl!"

"You think just because you latched onto William, you can do whatever you want and step all over me?"

She moved closer, her voice dropping lower but becoming more cutting:

"Don't forget, that five hundred million dollars is still in George's hands."

"If I call him right now and tell him this is how you're treating me, do you think that money will still make it into Star Tech's account?"

Sarah's threatening words hung in the air like a tiny thorn.

I ignored her, I didn't even spare her another glance, turned around, and headed straight back to my office.

I closed the door, shutting out the unpleasant atmosphere outside.

I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the ant-like cars and pedestrians moving along the street below, trying to calm my somewhat chaotic thoughts.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the open office area where Sarah had indeed huffily sat down at that corner desk by the window.

The chair made a harsh scraping sound as she pulled it out.

After sitting down, the first thing she did wasn't open her computer to familiarize herself with work, but immediately pull out her phone to make a call, her expression both aggrieved and indignant.

No need to guess who she was calling.

I stood by the window, waiting.

Waiting for my phone to ring, waiting for George's familiar voice to come through, demanding answers on behalf of his darling.

One minute, five minutes, ten minutes...

My phone remained as silent as a brick.

By nearly noon, there was still no call or message from George.

I was very surprised, but more than that, I felt an absurd sense of calm.

Perhaps George also thought Sarah's warning was too much and couldn't be bothered?

Or maybe he felt that the five hundred million dollar entry ticket was enough, and the rest of the treatment Sarah would have to earn with her own abilities?

I didn't know, and I was too lazy to try to figure out George's complex, inscrutable thoughts.

Just when I thought this matter would die down, I went to the break room to get water and passed by the quiet fire escape stairwell, when I heard an agitated female voice inside.

It was Sarah.

She was on the phone, with the speaker on.

"George, you didn't see their attitude. That William, and Emily, especially Grace—they're doing this on purpose."

"They gave me a crappy desk worse than an intern's, right next to the printer and break room, so noisy I can't think. The work they assigned me is just organizing files and taking meeting notes."

"What is this supposed to be?"

Sarah's voice was full of grievance and resentment, like a little girl who'd been wronged outside and came home to complain to her parents.

On the other end of the phone, George's voice came through the speaker, somewhat distorted.

But his characteristic detachment and calm were still clear.

"Mm."

Just a simple nasal sound, emotionless.

"You have to do something." Sarah grew anxious, her voice rising. "You need to tell Grace she has to let me work on core projects, otherwise that five hundred million dollars..."

"Do your job well." George cut her off, his voice still flat. "Use your abilities to prove them wrong."

Use her abilities to prove them wrong?

Leaning against the cold wall, I almost laughed out loud.

Sarah did have abilities, but in this team where she was completely unfamiliar and clearly being excluded, proving them wrong wouldn't be possible.

"But..." Sarah was obviously unsatisfied with this answer and wanted to say more.

"I ordered afternoon tea from Clear Dew Patisserie for you," George spoke again, his tone seeming slightly softer but still flat. "Everyone at the company gets some, sent in your name."

Clear Dew Patisserie.

My heart skipped a beat.

That was a top-tier private bakery that only accepted reservations a week in advance, with limited daily quantities and outrageously expensive prices.

More importantly, they never provided delivery service, supposedly because the owner insisted on fresh preparation for optimal taste.

George had actually gotten them to make an exception and deliver afternoon tea to everyone at Star Tech.

Everyone gets some.

This wasn't just afternoon tea anymore. This was using real money and special connections to back Sarah up, to silently announce to everyone at Star Tech:

Sarah was someone George protected.

Here, she had privileges.

Sure enough, Sarah's voice instantly brightened, all previous grievance and resentment swept away, replaced by barely suppressed delight and smugness.