Chapter 90

Chapter 90

"Besides, Wendy isn't an outsider. Let her follow you and learn from you properly, so she can take over her family business later."

Joseph droned on.

Alexander pressed his lips tightly together as an image suddenly flashed through his mind.

It was from when Stella was still at the company.

When Stella was his assistant, they bickered every day.

She would always puff up her cheeks in frustration because of Alexander, but never let herself actually lose her temper.

Back then, he thought they had all the time in the world.

But looking back now, those days had been painfully short.

He blamed no one but himself for taking those days for granted and losing her.

Now, hearing Joseph try to plant someone beside him, Alexander stood up, his tone flat with impatience.

"Grandpa, I said what I said. I handle company matters my own way. I don't need you interfering."

"You—"

Joseph slammed his cane heavily on the floor, his face red with fury.

"I'm doing this for your own good! Why can't you see that?"

Alexander turned away from his grandfather's wounded look, his eyes full of complex emotions.

"For my own good?"

He let out a light laugh, the sound edged with mockery.

"Grandpa, if you really want what's best for me, stop placing people in my life."

With that, Alexander headed straight upstairs, leaving Joseph sitting in the living room, his face dark with anger.

Brian stepped in to smooth things over.

"Dad, calm down. You know how stubborn he is. In a few days, I'll talk to him."

Hearing Brian's words, Joseph snorted.

"He has been spoiled rotten! If he keeps acting like this, how will he ever be able to hold up the entire Brown Group?"

He took a deep breath, suppressing his anger.

"Fine, if he won't take an assistant, Wendy can be his personal translator. He's always dealing with overseas clients anyway. Wendy spent four years abroad, her foreign language skills are excellent. That should be fine, right?"

Joseph had made up his mind. Brian opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing more.

Upstairs, Alexander returned to his bedroom, yanked off his tie, and threw himself onto the sofa.

He closed his eyes, his mind filled with images of Stella.

The way she smiled. The way she puffed out her cheeks when angry. The soft line of her profile when she lowered her head to work.

And that day at the airport, her back as she left without looking back.

Each image was like a knife, cutting into his heart one by one.

Alexander opened his eyes and reached for his phone, scrolling through his contacts.

The number at the top—he'd looked at it so many times he had it memorized.

But he still couldn't bring himself to call.

It wasn't because he lacked courage.

It was that Alexander knew very well that number wouldn't go through anymore.

He put down his phone and moved to the window, staring out at the city lights.

This city was so big, yet he had no idea where Stella was hiding.

The next morning, as soon as Alexander arrived at the company, he saw Wendy already waiting at his office door.

Today she wore a beige business suit, her long hair pulled back, looking polished and put-together.

"Alexander, good morning."

Wendy greeted him with a smile, holding two cups of coffee.

"What are you doing here?"

Alexander frowned, surprised to see her.

But Wendy answered easily, "Joseph asked me to be your personal translator. He said you've been swamped with overseas business and need a translator. I just got back to the country and don't have much going on, so here I am."

Alexander's face darkened.

He had clearly refused last night, but Joseph had done it anyway.

"I don't need a translator."

He said this almost coldly.

Alexander pushed the door open and walked in. Wendy followed.

"Stop being stubborn."

Wendy placed the coffee on the desk, a hint of helplessness in her smile, while her eyes gleamed with satisfaction, as though she knew everything about Alexander.

"I know your foreign language skills are good, but there are some technical terms I know better than you do. Besides, having one more person to help is never a bad thing."

Watching her play dumb, Alexander leaned back in his chair and looked up at her.

"Wendy, I thought I made myself very clear. There's no possibility of anything between us. Don't waste your time on me."

Wendy's smile stiffened for a moment, but quickly returned to normal.

"You're overthinking it. I'm just here to work, nothing else."

She pulled over a nearby chair and sat down, opening her laptop with brisk efficiency.

"Mr. Brown, do you have any documents that need translating today?"

Alexander stared at her for a few seconds, then said nothing.

He picked up the documents on his desk and started working. Wendy also wisely didn't disturb him, just sat quietly to the side.

The silence in the office was suffocating.

Alexander's mind wasn't on the documents at all.

His eyes drifted to the doorway now and then, like he was expecting something.

When Stella used to be his assistant, she would always do clumsy things that were both frustrating and funny.

Every time he scolded her, she would lower her head and whisper sorry, then do the exact same thing again.

Of course, these small mistakes didn't really matter—they were just Alexander's personal habits and quirks.

Now those same frustrating days were his most treasured memories.

"Alexander? Alexander?"

Wendy's voice pulled him back to reality.

"What is it?"

Alexander blinked and looked at her, his face blank.

"The 9:30 meeting is about to start. Everyone's waiting in the conference room."

Wendy reminded him.

Alexander looked down at the time—it was already 9:25.

He picked up the documents on his desk and headed out. Wendy quickly followed.

All the department heads were already seated in the conference room.

When Alexander walked in, everyone immediately sat up straight.

The meeting began. Alexander listened to each department's report, his expression giving nothing away.

He only spoke up when the marketing manager brought up an overseas project.

Wendy sat beside him, jotting down notes.

Halfway through the meeting, Alexander's phone suddenly vibrated.

He glanced down at the screen—just one name: Arthur.

Arthur Pembroke, his college roommate, was now the director of obstetrics and gynecology at Emerald General Hospital.

Although they had different majors, they'd always been close.

However, since graduation, Arthur rarely called him. Why was he suddenly reaching out today?