Chapter 113 Poach Employees
The phone only rang twice before it was picked up.
"Amelia, what's going on? Why are you suddenly calling me?"
The person on the other end was named Maximiliano Lowe. Because his name was hard to pronounce, people who knew him just called him Max.
Max had a proper economics degree and was in charge of the businesses under Shadow Operations Division.
He had a sharp eye and had brought in quite a bit of profit for Shadow Operations Division.
Before this, he'd been a sidelined nobody at a publicly traded company. Amelia saw his potential and brought him to Shadow Operations Division, where his abilities finally had room to shine.
Amelia had given him his big break, and he was grateful for that.
But normally, Amelia wouldn't reach out to him directly.
That's because all those legitimate businesses were registered under his name—nobody knew they belonged to Shadow Operations Division.
Amelia got straight to the point: "I want 'Montes Summit Studios' to poach someone."
"Montes Summit Studios" was an entertainment company Shadow Operations Division had invested in. Though it wasn't as big as Aurora Media yet, it had already become the second major player in Phoenicia's entertainment industry.
Apart from "Aurora Media," "Montes Summit Studios" had the most popular celebrities.
Max naturally agreed.
"Who is it?"
"Lucas." She paused, then added, "My brother."
Though Max didn't contact Amelia directly, he knew her situation well.
Amelia had found her birth parents, and he was happy for her.
"Since he's your brother, we definitely need to get him. I'll handle this personally, don't worry."
Amelia acknowledged this and instructed: "Make it fast. Best to get him over within three days."
Every day Lucas stayed at Aurora Media was another day he'd suffer.
He wasn't a bad person and was genuine with Amelia, so she wanted to return that sincerity.
"Yes. I guarantee the mission will be completed within three days." Max promised confidently.
"Sorry to trouble you—having a CEO personally handle this kind of small matter." Amelia joked.
Max paused, then asked: "Amelia, are you in a good mood today?"
Amelia rarely joked around.
On her end of the phone, Amelia froze.
Was she in a good mood?
Not really.
Nothing had happened to put her in a good mood.
But for some reason, the file about Alice that Samuel had given her popped into her mind.
She shook her head, telling herself not to overthink things.
Her ambitions weren't limited to romantic relationships.
She wanted to climb higher and see more beautiful views.
"My mood's normal." She paused, remembering something else. "Oh, about Montes Summit Studios—I want to change the name. I don't like the word Montes."
During today's shoot, meeting that Orval Montes had made her hate that name.
Max didn't ask why and simply agreed: "Alright, I'll change it right away. What name would you like?"
"Up to you, just don't use Montes."
"Got it. I'll think of a name and text you to ask."
"Okay. That's it then, hanging up."
"Yes."
The call ended, and Amelia quickly dialed another number.
This time she wasn't calling anyone else—it was Lyndon from Iron Fist Mafia.
She'd wanted to meet with Lyndon for a while but hadn't had time.
When he heard she was asking him to lunch, Lyndon was thrilled.
"I'm free, of course I'm free! Lunch? Let me pick the place, okay?"
"Okay."
"Where are you? I'll find a restaurant near you and come pick you up."
"I'm at the Crawford Group branch. No need to pick me up, I can get there myself."
"Yes, give me two minutes. I'll book a restaurant and send you the address."
Amelia acknowledged and hung up.
In less than two minutes, Lyndon sent the address.
Crimson Rose Bistro.
It was only a seven or eight-minute walk from here, so Amelia didn't call a cab and slowly walked toward Crimson Rose Bistro.
After walking about two hundred yards, passing by a mall, she noticed a crowd gathered around something up ahead, chattering about saving someone.
Her medical instincts kicked in, and Amelia quickly walked over, pushing through the crowd to look inside.
She saw a little boy lying on the ground, convulsing all over, foaming at the mouth.
A well-dressed woman knelt beside the boy, crying and begging people to help.
None of the bystanders were doctors—they'd only helped her call for an ambulance.
The woman was so panicked she'd lost her composure and could only cry.
"Is there a doctor?"
"No, should we go into the mall and ask?"
"Right, right, go to the mall and have them broadcast for a doctor. Otherwise, by the time the ambulance gets here, he'll be dead."
Hearing the words "he'll be dead," the woman cried even harder.
"I'm a doctor."
A clear voice rang out—it was Amelia.
She charged money for treating people, but that didn't mean she'd only help if she got paid.
Especially when it was just a seven or eight-year-old child.
The woman immediately looked up at her, but when she saw how young Amelia was, doubt crept into her eyes.
"Are you really a doctor?"
"If you want to save your son, trust me."
The woman hesitated no longer—she had to try something.
Amelia told the crowd to spread out a bit, then pulled the expensive silk scarf from the woman's neck and stuffed it into the child's mouth.
The woman instinctively grabbed her hand.
"What are you doing?"
"He'll bite his tongue like this."
The woman immediately let go.
After making sure the boy wouldn't bite his own tongue, Amelia pulled over his hand to examine him.
A moment later, she released his hand and asked the woman: "Did he fall just now?"
The woman nodded through her tears: "He was climbing on the hot spring fountain earlier. I was just about to tell him to come down when he slipped and fell. At the time he just said his head hurt a bit and seemed fine, but less than five minutes later he suddenly became like this."
"When he fell, he hit his head. It's caused by brain trauma."
As she spoke, she felt the boy's head and indeed found a swelling.
Hearing her say this, the woman trusted her more.
"So what do we do now?"
Amelia didn't answer, but her hands kept moving.
Luckily she had the habit of always carrying a medical kit. She quickly found her acupuncture needles and began inserting them into the boy's head.
The crowd murmured among themselves.
"Oh, she's one of those alternative medicine doctors. Can that even treat this?"
"Those needles are so thick—sticking them in his head, even if he's fine now, something will go wrong."
"Miss, maybe you should just wait for the ambulance? If it's just from a fall, it should be okay."
Hearing everyone's words, the woman's heart began to waver again.
But when she turned to look at Amelia's focused expression, she inexplicably felt she should let Amelia try.
After all, Amelia had known at a glance that her son had fallen earlier.
Without some real medical skill, she couldn't have figured that out so quickly.
She decided to trust Amelia and take the gamble.
What the woman didn't know was that this correct choice she made had saved her son's life.
Amelia couldn't care less what the people around her were saying—her hands moved so fast they were almost a blur.
But only someone who knew the craft would realize that though her movements looked fast and chaotic, every needle was placed with precision.
And time was ticking away, second by second.