Chapter 113 Test
Xavier closed the conference room door, and when he turned around, he found Leopold already seated at the head of the table. It left him and Gemma to take the seats on either side, like subordinates awaiting judgment.
Leopold radiated the same innate authority as Preston—the unmistakable aura of a born leader.
Leopold's cool, detached gaze swept over them, a silent signal that they could begin, but that his time was limited.
Xavier gave Gemma a subtle nod, prompting her to play the emotional card first. She understood immediately. "Leopold," she began, her voice laced with carefully crafted concern, "I know your father didn't specify what he sent you to do, but I'm not naive. The operational environment for our overseas hotels is completely different from here at home. The market's been saturated for years, the economy is sluggish... just maintaining a steady revenue stream is an achievement in itself."
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "I'm not trying to shift blame. I'll admit, I've been incredibly busy lately and haven't given our three international properties the attention they deserve. But rest assured, I've already dispatched a team. I'm confident we'll see a significant uptick in revenue in the next quarter."
"Since things are already on an upward trend," she continued, leaning in slightly, "maybe you don't need to include this in your report. Your father's health hasn't been the best recently. Hearing about this would only cause him more stress. You're a devoted son; I know you wouldn't want to see him fall ill again."
Leopold didn't take the bait. His gaze shifted to Xavier, who immediately plastered on a fawning smile and picked up the thread. "And the issues with my two locations? Even less worth mentioning. They've actually been profitable for the last two years."
At the mention of profit, Gemma's face hardened. She shot Xavier a sharp, annoyed glare. He was clearly taking a jab at her.
Seeing that Leopold remained unmoved and realizing the conversation wasn't about revenue, Xavier's instincts screamed that the real problem was Dash. He leaned forward, planting his forearms on the table and lowering his voice conspiratorially.
"You saw Dash, didn't you?"
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched Leopold's lips. Xavier let out a long, dramatic sigh, then theatrically pounded his chest in frustration. "You have no idea. He's my one screw-up of a relative. The whole family pleads his case, my elderly parents practically beg me, what am I supposed to do? The only thing I could think of was to send him overseas to help out under my supervision, doing odd jobs."
"Odd jobs" was a clever choice of words. Xavier had never given Dash an official title, but within the hotels, everyone knew he was the executive who had parachuted in, wielding real power without a formal position.
"Leopold," Xavier pleaded, his expression a mask of distress, "for the sake of our years working together, just pretend you never saw him. Give the kid a break."
Silence descended upon the conference room. Both of them waited for his answer.
Leopold's face was like a sculpture carved from ice, his eyes betraying no emotion. "When I want to talk about personal relationships, you talk business. When I want to talk business, you talk about personal relationships. Need I remind you, this is a corporation, not a family reunion. I suggest you save your energy. You'll need it to explain yourselves to Mr. Preston Wipere."
It took a moment for Gemma to process his words. "What do you mean?"
Leopold rose from his chair, his demeanor cool and breezy. "Oh, did I forget to mention? I already sent a digital copy of this report to Mr. Wipere."
Only after Leopold's back had disappeared through the doorway did the color drain from Xavier's face. He collapsed into his chair. "We're finished."
Gemma scrambled out of her seat and chased after Leopold, watching in horror as he knocked on the door to Preston's office.
Inside, Preston sat quietly behind his desk, his eyes downcast as he reviewed a document. His voice, when he spoke, was deep and steady.
"What took you so long?"
"There was some traffic," Leopold replied simply.
Preston lifted his gaze to look at the man standing opposite him. "Do you really think that just because I'm old and sitting in this office, I don't know what's going on?"
Leopold moved to pull out a chair, but noticed Preston reaching for a pen just out of his grasp. He quickly picked it up and presented it with both hands. Preston took it, his eyes lingering on Leopold for a second. "Even if you tried to cover for them, it would have been useless."
Leopold paused, then placed the file folder he was carrying on the desk. "You used me to test them, didn't you?"
"Why not call it a trial?" Preston opened the folder, which contained nothing but a stack of blank white paper, and casually tossed it aside.
Leopold had sent the electronic report to Preston as soon as it was finished. But right after landing, he'd received a call from Preston's assistant, Erik, instructing him to bring a folder filled with blank pages to the office the next morning. Leopold hadn't asked why, and Erik hadn't elaborated. They both knew the game. And today, his arrival at the company had proven Preston's prediction correct.
No one could beat Preston at psychological warfare. He knew human nature couldn't withstand testing, and he took a perverse pleasure in watching its ugliness unfold. In his heart, Leopold despised his boss's cold-blooded, ruthless nature, a constant reminder to remain ever vigilant and clear-headed in his presence.
As a man who navigated the cutthroat world of capital markets, Leopold had seen more than his share of deception and self-interest. It was precisely why he was so drawn to Caroline. Her unwavering principles and profound sense of humanity were a sanctuary, a place where he could pause, rest, and reconnect with his own.
Gemma stood frozen outside the door, her ear pressed against the wood, but she couldn't hear a thing. Frantic, she knocked again.
Leopold had no desire to witness a confrontation between Preston and Gemma. His presence in such a scene would be an embarrassment for everyone involved.
"Your trial is over. May I go now?"
"What's the rush?" Preston set aside a signed document and leaned back slowly in his chair, settling in as if for a good show. "Me having a falling out with her is exactly what your mother would want, isn't it?"
At the office, Leopold never brought up Quinlan, and he hated when others did. This was the first time Preston had mentioned her at work—not with nostalgia or longing, but as a conversational gambit.
A chill washed over Leopold's expression. He looked at Preston, the words that had been welling in his chest finally dissolving into a single, resigned statement.
"My mother stopped caring about things here a long time ago."
He stood and walked toward the door. His resolute back stirred a distant memory in Preston's mind. Quinlan hadn't just stopped caring about things here; she had stopped caring about the people, too.
Another urgent knock rattled the door.
The office door opened from the inside. Gemma stared, her pupils constricting slightly at the sight of Leopold.
He gave her a curt nod and moved past her, disappearing down the hall.
Gemma stepped inside tentatively, her hand still on the doorknob as she studied Preston's expression. "Preston," she called out softly.
Preston merely shot her an icy glance, offering no response as he continued to read the file in his hands.
She closed the door and sat down across from him, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. Her eyes scanned the desk. The folder Leopold had been carrying was nowhere in sight. A sliver of hope flickered within her—perhaps Leopold had been bluffing.
"Explain," Preston said, his unfathomable gaze fixed on her. His fingers tapped a slow, deliberate rhythm on the armrest of his chair.
Gemma's throat went dry, but she had already rehearsed her lines. With feigned composure, she began to talk about the three overseas hotels.
Meanwhile, Leopold walked down the long corridor and spotted Xavier pacing back and forth in an empty office, speaking anxiously into his phone.
Stepping into the elevator, Leopold sent a message to Caroline on WhatsApp.
Leopold: [Hey, you free for lunch?]
He was already out of the building, but there was no reply. She must be busy again.
This was real life. Everyone was busy—busy with work, with family, with social obligations. So busy, there was hardly any time to stare at a phone.
Leopold started his car and headed straight for the Seaside City Electric Power Company.