Chapter 36
President's Office, the Morgan Group.
A thick stack of printed papers sat on William's desk, each page containing information about several people named Joseph.
He flipped through a few pages casually and felt irritated.
Which one of them was the person she couldn't let go of in her dreams?
Such a common name—they'd managed to dig up nearly ten thousand people with the same name across the country. No matter how he analyzed it, none of them seemed like anyone important.
"Send these lists to the marketing department. Have them call every single one and pull out any suspicious information separately."
James hurried over to gather the large stack of papers from the desk. As he was about to leave, William added specifically,
"These calls must be finished tonight."
James silently felt sorry for his colleagues in the marketing department. The folks on the seventh floor were probably going to pull an all-nighter tonight.
The Morgan Group building was brightly lit tonight. Everyone knew their president was in a bad mood, so no one dared to leave after work hours. The entire office building was submerged in a low-pressure atmosphere, so oppressive that it was suffocating.
James delivered the materials to the marketing department and immediately received orders from the president to gather department managers for a meeting in the company's largest conference room.
A group of people obediently sat around the conference table.
William hadn't arrived yet, so they tried to get information from James first, afraid of saying the wrong thing and getting dealt with on the spot by the boss.
"James, can you give us a hint about what this meeting is about? So we can prepare ourselves mentally."
"Yeah, yeah, James, give us some idea. Mr. Morgan isn't planning layoffs, is he?"
Once someone asked this, everyone panicked.
"What would I do? I'm the only source of income for my family."
"Who isn't under pressure? At our age, job-hopping is awkward—we're stuck in the middle. I was planning to work at the Morgan Group for life."
As the conversation turned to the heavy topic of layoffs, everyone sighed and groaned.
Middle-aged people, on the verge of tears.
Anyone who had worked their way up to a management position at the Morgan Group was at least in their thirties. They all had elderly parents above and young children below, mortgages and car loans, kids who needed private school, and wives who wanted designer bags.
To outsiders, they were enviable middle-class families. Only they knew how heavy the burden on their shoulders was.
They were all people who couldn't afford to lose their jobs.
Seeing everyone looking dejected, James thought: if Mr. Morgan walks into a room full of gloomy faces, will he be in a good mood? If Mr. Morgan is in a bad mood, the one who suffers directly is me.
"Cheer up, everyone. Mr. Morgan didn't say anything about layoffs. Maybe he's even giving everyone across-the-board raises."
He had no idea why William had called this meeting, so he made up something cheerful on the spot.
Sure enough, the atmosphere in the conference room eased.
Everyone started discussing in low voices.
William strode in on his long legs and saw a room full of people deeply engrossed in discussion—many hadn't even noticed him enter. He coughed, and the conference room immediately fell silent.
"You all know about the internationally renowned jewelry designer Lolly, right?"
Everyone nodded.
Working at the Morgan Group, they naturally kept up with related news. They'd all heard that Lolly was a designer Mr. Morgan had been trying unsuccessfully to recruit.
"Now there's a chance for a raise right in front of you—it just depends on who can seize it. Whoever can convince Lolly to come to the Morgan Group will have their salary multiplied by ten starting this month."
After William finished speaking, he announced an email address.
"This is her email. She's one of our own countrymen."
Everyone was shocked for a moment. The fashion design world's genius was actually a compatriot?
A sense of national pride welled up spontaneously.
Someone suggested, "Mr. Morgan, let's send her an email first. Once she replies, we'll immediately trace her IP address. Since she's a compatriot, it'll be easier to talk in person. Let's find the person first."
Others agreed,
"Right, right, find the person first, then discuss terms. Everyone has weaknesses. If we can find her, we're halfway to success."
William thought this made sense and immediately had James draft and send an email.
The email read:
[Dear Ms. Lolly, the Morgan Group will be hosting a charity gala next weekend featuring a jewelry auction. The auction items are shown in the attached images. If you're interested, could you please leave your contact information so we can mail you an invitation?]
After the email was sent, they immediately called over several employees from the company's IT department to monitor it. As soon as she replied, they would trace her IP address.
In this country, there was no one William couldn't find.
Ava chatted for a while in the small group chat with Olivia and Lucas, then exited and opened her email to take a look. Among several unread emails, one stood out.
Sender: The Morgan Group.
This was her private account, never made public.
Curious, she opened it. After reading the content, she found it uninteresting. Just as she was about to close it, she noticed an attachment. She casually clicked it open and, seeing what was in the picture, was so angry she wanted to curse on the spot.
That bastard William was taking advantage of her absence to use her jewelry for charity. Did he even understand what respect meant?
Most of those pieces of jewelry she'd found at various auctions; some were gifts from him.
Once given, they were hers. Who takes back gifts they've given?
Now he wanted to auction these things off for charity. Why didn't he auction off that entire wall of handbags instead of messing with her jewelry?
The key thing was that the photos even included the birthday gift her mother had given her.
Ava was furious. The more she thought about it, the more she felt William was inhuman.
He'd never done a single decent thing.
She sat cross-legged on the bed alone, cursing William at the wall for ages. Finally, she replied to the email with just "Fine."
Just one word.
Ava was angry, but her rationality remained. She wasn't stupid enough to expose her phone number directly. As for the charity gala the Morgan Group was hosting, getting an invitation wouldn't be hard for her—why would she need them to mail one?
In the Morgan Group conference room, a group of people were yawning while waiting for news.
"There's a reply."
An excited shout rang out in the quiet conference room.
The IT colleague projected the computer screen, and the roomful of nearly sleeping people immediately perked up.
After seeing the reply email, they fell silent again.
Just one word?
The IT colleague consoled them,
"Don't worry, everyone. One word is enough. Within ten minutes, we'll have her IP address. She can't escape."
William leaned back in his executive chair with his eyes half-closed, waiting for results.
Everyone held their breath, no one daring to disturb the IT expert.
After a flurry of typing, the results quickly appeared before everyone.
"Mr. Morgan, we've found it."
What pleasant words to hear.
William raised an eyebrow, waiting for details.
Everyone perked up, too, craning their necks for the results.
"What a coincidence—this person is in Emerald City. The IP address is located at the Atlantis Hotel. Can't get more specific than that for now. The range is narrowed down this far. Let me think of another way."
William thought for a moment and instructed James,
"Get a list of today's guests at the Atlantis Hotel. First, eliminate the unlikely ones and narrow the circle even further."
James immediately made a phone call to have someone handle it.
William had already picked up his coat and headed out. James followed quickly while still on the phone.
"Mr. Morgan, where are we going?"
"Atlantis Hotel."