Chapter 39

Marguerite blinked, a little bewildered by all the fuss. "No, I'm fine," she said, shaking her head. "I'm the one who slapped Hannah."

Anna's tense shoulders relaxed. "Oh, good."

Hannah was so furious she thought her head might explode. Forgetting her damsel- in-distress act, she shrieked, "Anna, what do you mean, 'good'? You think it's good that I got hit?” She had never liked this executive assistant. She should have had Theobald fire her long ago.

Anna gave Hannah a cool, dismissive look. "If Maggie hit you, you should ask yourself what you did to deserve it."

Hannah gritted her teeth, feeling a fresh wave of indignation. "So you're all into victim-blaming now, is that it?"

Marguerite stepped forward, a bright smile gracing her lips as she addressed the four veterans. “Grace, Edit, Boris, Sean!" She had seen them in the meeting earlier but hadn't had a chance to greet them personally.

The four veterans' faces lit up, their eyes suddenly misting over.

"Maggie, you still remember me!" Boris cried, tears streaming down his face. "Where

have you been all these years? We've missed you so much!"

Marguerite grinned. “Of course, I remember. And you've gotten even more handsome, Mr. Lee!"

Boris's tears turned to laughter. He tugged at his suit jacket, trying to hide his protruding belly. "Haha, our Maggie always did have the sharpest eye!"

Grace pulled Marguerite into a tight hug. “Let me get a good look at you. You've gotten thinner, little one!" As she spoke, her own tears began to fall. Eleven years. The little girl they thought was gone forever was standing right in front of them, alive and well. How could they not be emotional?

These four had been part of the original management team under Marguerite's father, Jerome Scott They had watched all the Scott

children grow up and had cotton

particularly fond of the eldest daughter. Jerome used to bring her to the office sometimes, and they had all half-jokingly plotted to kidnap her and raise her as their own. She was a sweet, intelligent, doll-like child, and she had made them all long for a daughter of their own.

Of course, they weren't the only ones who had started with Jerome. Over the years, many had left to pursue other opportunities. The biggest exodus had occurred after Jerome's death, when most of the remaining executives had sided with his brother, Fitch Scott.

The company had been passed

down from the previous generation, and Jerome, being the more capable son, had always been the CEO. Fitch, on the other hand, had been a slacker his whole life. But as the company thrived under his brother's leadership, Fitch grew arrogant and resentful of his secondary role as vice president. He began to build his own faction within the company, but Jerome had always kept him in check.

Jerome's death was the closest Fitch had ever come to seizing power. But then, Marguerite had emerged.

She refused to let her father's hard-won legacy be destroyed by her uncle. The fourteen-year-old girl had called a full board meeting. Many had attended out of morbid curiosity, eager to see what a child could possibly have to say.

They had been stunned. She had commanded the room, presenting clear data on Fitch's poor decisions and the resulting financial losses. She had exposed his scandalous personal life to illustrate his untrustworthy character. Her conclusion was simple: Fitch was unfit to be CEO.

The young girl's arguments were logical and irrefutable. She had then presented her own credentials: a lifetime of academic awards and an

undisputed reign as the top Stan

in her grade. While this might have seemed childish to the seasoned executives, it proved one thing: she was a prodigy. A smart leader is one with vision and potential, and the board members saw both in her.

Moved by her brilliance and resilience, several directors had stood up to pledge their support,

and others quickly followed.

Fitch had been left seething with impotent rage. He couldn't beat his brother, and

now, he couldn't even beat his brother's teenage daughter.