Chapter 672
Chapter 672:
The moment Ashton entered the lobby, a curious sight met his eyes. A man, impeccably dressed, his slicked-back hair giving him an air of arrogance, lounged comfortably, making cutting remarks about the décor.
“Who chose this decorative plant? It’s not really my style, and I think we should replace it with something more appealing. Also, these grey floor tiles give off a gloomy vibe—maybe we could switch them for something brighter. That painting doesn’t seem authentic, and it feels a bit out of place. But on a different note, you, as the executive manager, have a great presence. I’d love to have you work closely with me as my personal assistant — I’m sure it would be a rewarding experience for you.”
Ashton’s brows furrowed.
Abrial had overseen the company’s interior design herself, and Ashton hadn’t given it a second thought, trusting her instincts.
Yet here was this stranger, not only trashing her style but also brazenly flirting with her.
After spending considerable time with Ashton, Abrial had softened toward him, her usual sharp edges dulled by their rapport. However, with most others, she was anything but gentle.
Abrial’s reputation for assertiveness preceded her; anyone foolish enough to provoke her would usually find themselves on the receiving end of her swift, unflinching retaliation.
Yet this time, something was different. Abrial’s usual fire seemed dampened. She was cautious, almost hesitant, a stark contrast to her typical self. It was clear this man’s presence carried weight—enough to make even someone as bold as Abrial pause.
Her silence spoke volumes, but her nervous glances toward the entrance betrayed the tension she was holding back.
The moment Abrial caught sight of Ashton entering, her demeanor shifted. Relief flickered across her face like a candle reigniting in the wind. She wasted no time, quickly moving behind Ashton as if seeking refuge, her voice a barely audible whisper. “I can’t handle him. You’ll have to deal with this one.”
𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 ⍰ 𝙜ⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀・𝖼𝗈𝗆
Ashton, still perplexed, glanced back at her and asked quietly, “Who is he? And why are you so afraid of him?”
The man, now aware of Abrial’s movement, turned his attention to Ashton.
His lips curled into a knowing smile, and he rose to his feet, extending his hand casually. “Ah, you must be the boss around here. Let me introduce myself—I’m Marc Crawford, from the Crawford family in Staville. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Ashton sized him up and down before asking flatly, “What do you want?”
Marc’s smug grin deepened. He straightened his collar with exaggerated nonchalance and said, “Oh, nothing too complicated. I’m here to take over your company, that’s all.”
Take over this company?
To Ashton, Marc’s words felt like the punchline of a bad joke, but out of courtesy, he kept his composure and responded politely.
“I’m sorry, sir, but our company is running smoothly, and there are no plans to sell it. If there’s nothing else you need, I’d appreciate it if you refrained from lingering. It might disrupt the flow of our employees’ work.”
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