EuropeNovelChapter 125 Penelope Dawson sat in the executive chair of the CEO's office.
Jack lingered nearby, glancing at her with uneasy hesitation.
Everyone knew that The Harrison Group owed its very existence to the Dawson family's money and connections- Penelope's influence was the real backbone behind their success.
Over the years, Penelope had built a reputation for ruthless determination and an iron grip on power.
Even though Jack wore the title of CEO, the entire company knew who truly called the shots: Penelope Dawson.
A subordinate finished his report, and Jack waved him off with a dismissive flick of his hand.
He watched his wife lost in thought, then approached her with careful steps, as if trying not to wake a sleeping tiger.
Jack rested a gentle hand on Penelope's shoulder, lowering his voice in a placating murmur.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Honey, business is unpredictable. This time, M Boutique just didn't see our value -so what? There's always next Penelope cut him off with a steely glare. "You're already thinking about next time?" She shrugged off his hand and rose to her feet, fixing Jack with a cold, piercing stare.
"This is how your darling illegitimate daughter Elise repays me?" She scoffed, her voice icy. "And you had the nerve to say she had Magnus backing her. I agreed to give her a chance against my better judgment, mind you -only for her to screw it all up. And what happened? M Boutique still ended up in the Vaughans' hands." Jack had never expected Elise to mess up like this.
He'd heard the rumors these past two years about Magnus's blatant favoritism toward Elise.
Magnus had even pulled strings to get Elise a new heart not long ago-going further than Jack ever had as her own father.
Men were all the same, Jack thought. He'd been sure Magnus was madly in love with Elise.
But then, out of nowhere, the Fitzgerald family swept in, snatched up the M Boutique deal, and handed it over to the Vaughans.
Jack tried desperately to calm Penelope, his tone meek and apologetic.
"Please, don't be upset. This was my mistake. Victor, the Fitzgeralds' golden boy, stepped in at the last minute. The Fitzgeralds have more clout than Wainwright Holdings-it threw all our plans into chaos. Elise couldn't have seen it coming..." "If it's not her fault, then it must be yours," Penelope shot back.
How did this suddenly bechis fault too? Jack bit his tongue. Arguing with Penelope when she was in a mood like this was pure suicide.
Penelope's eyes narrowed in thought. "Why would Victor Fitzgerald get involved in this?" The Fitzgeralds had already invested hundreds of millions in the Vaughans. Now they'd handed them another golden opportunity.
All because of Isadora-the "real heiress" who'd been reunited with the Fitzgeralds after twenty years.
No man helps a woman out of pure kindness, Penelope mused.
Tto have a little chat with Mrs. Fitzgerald.
Without another word, Penelope grabbed her Hermès bag and headed for the door, her face unreadable.
"Where are you going, darling?" Jack called after her, trailing in her wake.
Penelope shot him a sidelong glare.
"Stay out of it. I need to let off smy If you get in my way, you can steam. If you spend the night on your knees at the front door." Meanwhile, Elise had also heard the news about M Boutique's partnership with the Vaughans.
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She'd taken photos of Isadora and Victor together and sent them to ve Magnus, hoping to stir up trouble. Magnus hadn't replied.
She'd followed up with a string of deliberately sympathetic messages, but he remained silent.
Elise had been sure Magnus would cool off toward Isadora after this.
But no-he'd still chosen to help her.
Isadora had cheated on him, and still Magnus couldn't see straight.
What did Isadora have that Elise didn't? Pain and frustration twisted in Elise's chest, making it hard to breathe.
Unable to contain herself, she stormed out, intent on confronting Magnus.
But as soon as she opened the door, she found Penelope Dawson waiting cold fury.
outside radiating cold Two large, imposing bodyguards flanked her, blocking any chance of escape.
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