Chapter 23
"Don't be so heartless." Jeffrey completely ignored her coldness and moved even closer, the greed in his eyes undisguised. "After all, we were husband and wife once. I can't stand seeing you work so hard. How about this - give me a copy of that project proposal you're working on, or hand over all the resources you took with you?"
"As long as you behave and hand over what you've got, I can pull some strings for you. After all, you know about my connections with the Smith family."
Ophelia suddenly burst out laughing, as if she'd heard the biggest joke ever.
The laughter was full of mockery, making Jeffrey a bit scared.
"Jeffrey, have you gone crazy from being broke?" Ophelia stopped laughing, her eyes cold as knives. "Do you think I'm still that Ophelia you used to fool so easily? You're a loser who built his career off women and whose company is about to go under - what makes you think I'd come begging to you?"
"You!" Jeffrey's face turned red, and he growled in embarrassment, "Ophelia, don't push your luck! Believe it or not, I can make sure you never work in this industry again!"
"Really?" Ophelia glanced at him with contempt. "Go ahead and try. Now take your piece of junk car and get lost."
With that, she didn't spare Jeffrey another glance, hailed a taxi, and left him in the dust.
Jeffrey stood there, shaking with anger, watching the taxi disappear, a vicious look flashing in his eyes.
Meanwhile, at the Smith Mansion.
Mireille was sitting on the sofa, holding a cup of coffee, listening to Luca's report.
"Mrs. Smith, Ms. Blake has indeed been working very hard these past few days," Luca said respectfully. "The anniversary proposal has been revised several times. Although Jerry was afraid of taking responsibility, Ms. Blake finally pushed him to approve the plan."
"Also," Luca paused, "this afternoon, Jeffrey blocked Ms. Blake downstairs at the company. It seems he was trying to take advantage of the situation and get Ms. Blake to hand over her resources to him."
Mireille's eyebrows furrowed slightly, a flash of anger in her eyes.
"That Ainsley is getting more and more out of line." Mireille put down her cup, her tone carrying a hint of coldness. "I kept her in the Smith family out of pity for her background, to give her a place to stay. And what does she do? She dares to meddle in Smith Group affairs and even goes to provoke that jerk Jeffrey."
Luca said quietly, "Mrs. Smith, should I have a word with Ms. Smith?"
Mireille was silent for a moment, her fingers lightly tapping the table, a shrewd gleam in her eyes.
"No need," Mireille said slowly. "That ungrateful person will be in trouble sooner or later. But for now, keeping her around has its uses."
She looked out the window, her tone meaningful: "Ophelia has ability, but her character still needs tempering. You can't grow a towering tree in a greenhouse. Since someone wants to trip her up, let her fight it out herself. If she wins, she'll have earned her place. If she can't win, then she's just not capable enough."
"As for Ainsley..." Mireille's lips curved into a cold smile. "Let her make trouble. When she's done, someone will deal with her."
Luca bowed slightly, responding respectfully, "Yes."
He understood clearly that Mireille was paving the way for Ophelia, but Ophelia had to walk this path herself.
If Ophelia couldn't weather even this small storm, how could she support the vast Smith family in the future?
Although Ophelia's proposal had been reluctantly approved by Jerry, how could implementation possibly be smooth sailing?
Early the next morning, Ophelia arrived at the administrative department with a thick stack of material procurement orders and budget sheets.
As the nominal daughter of the Smith family, Ainsley had no real power, but to let her "gain experience," Mireille had given her a nominal position as Deputy Director of Administration, which happened to give her signing authority over event budgets.
When Ophelia knocked on Ainsley's office door, she was touching up her makeup in the mirror.
Seeing Ophelia enter, Ainsley put down her compact, her lips curving into an ambiguous smile: "If it isn't the busy Ms. Blake? What's this - your proposal got approved, and now you're here for money?"
"Ms. Smith, this is the material procurement budget for the anniversary celebration. I need your signature for fund allocation." Ophelia placed the documents on the desk, her tone businesslike.
Ainsley picked up the documents and didn't even look carefully, just flipped through them casually, then picked up her pen and drew a huge circle around the total amount.
"Five hundred thousand dollars?" Ainsley exclaimed exaggeratedly, as if she'd heard a joke. "Ophelia, do you think the company is your personal piggy bank? In this economic climate, everyone's talking about being frugal, and you're asking for five hundred thousand dollars right off the bat?"
Ophelia frowned slightly: "Ms. Smith, this is the minimum cost calculated by the finance department. Venue rental, lighting and stage design, and banquet catering - which of these doesn't cost money? This is already a compressed budget."
"I don't care whether you compressed it or not." Ainsley sneered, made a bold stroke, wrote a line in the approval comments section, then tossed the documents back to Ophelia. "The company's cash flow is tight right now. For this budget, I can only approve one hundred thousand dollars."
"One hundred thousand dollars?" Ophelia looked at that number, her eyes darkening.
This wasn't just cutting the budget - it was like asking her to build a Ferrari with money for buying a bicycle. One hundred thousand dollars wouldn't even cover the venue rental at that five-star hotel, let alone the subsequent setup.
Ainsley leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, looking defiant: "What? Isn't Ms. Blake supposed to be so capable? Since you took on this project, you need to save money for the Smith Group. One hundred thousand dollars - take it or leave it. If you don't want it, figure it out yourself."
She was certain Ophelia would back down or mess up the anniversary celebration due to insufficient funding.
Ophelia looked at Ainsley quietly for a long moment, then suddenly a faint smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.
"Fine, one hundred thousand dollars."
She picked up the pen, signed the documents, turned, and left without any hesitation.
Ainsley was stunned.
How dare Ophelia accept this budget?
A hundred thousand dollars for an anniversary celebration? If the event turned out shabby, it would be the Smith family losing face. Had Ophelia lost her mind?
Back at her desk, Ophelia looked at the one hundred thousand dollar budget approval in her hand, her eyes showing no panic, but rather a calm sharpness.
She opened her computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard, scrapping the original proposal and starting over.
"Della," Ophelia called someone over, "notify the suppliers - cancel the five-star hotel venue we booked. I'll negotiate the cancellation fee."
"What?" Della was confused. "Then where will we hold it? Without a venue, are the guests supposed to stand in the street?"
"Who said anything about the street?" Ophelia pointed to a design on her screen.
"Contact property management and clear out the rooftop garden at headquarters. It has an open view overlooking the entire city skyline - it's already the best venue, doesn't need much decoration."
"But..." Della was still worried. "What about the banquet? One hundred thousand dollars isn't even enough to buy seafood."