?Chapter 1622:


    “I’m not jealous,” Christina said, smiling faintly. “And I’m certainly not upset. I also have someone behind me.” Her amusement was unmistakable.


    Her backing was something neither the receptionist nor her father could ever hope to rival.


    “Someone behind you?” The receptionist gave her another slow, mocking once-over. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to im it’s Mr. Jones.”


    “You guessed correctly,” Christina replied, her smile deepening. “If I speak up, both you and your father will lose your positions.”


    “Oh, really?” The receptionist arched a brow, clearly unconvinced.


    Christina took out her phone, her gaze half-amused, half-cool. “Once I ce this call, your situation will be settled.”


    “Go ahead. Call him,” the receptionist challenged, standing her ground. “Or are you bluffing?”


    She didn’t believe for a second that this woman had any real connection to Bain.


    Plenty of naive girls had made big ims right at this desk—only to be quietly escorted out by security.


    To her, Christina was just another fool waiting to be humiliated.


    “I can make the call,” Christina said, her tone calm, her smile edged with quiet amusement. “Do you dare ask your father toe down and listen with you?”


    The receptionist hesitated for only a moment. She’d been ready to refuse—but the chance to humiliate Christina was too delicious to resist.


    “So, you don’t believe my dad is the department director?” she sneered, her contempt sharpening when Christina gave no reply. That silence, to her, was proof enough.


    “Fine then, I’ll make it crystal clear for you.” With a flick of her wrist, she pulled out her phone and dialed her father.


    In her mind, once she got close to Bain and became his wife, her father’s career would soar right alongside hers—perhaps even high enough to earn a seat among the Jones Group’s shareholders. Wealth, power, prestige—all of it seemed just within reach.


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    “Dad, are you busy? Can youe downstairs for a second? I need to talk to you,” she said sweetly, her tone dripping with practiced charm.


    When she hung up, she turned to Christina, smug satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.


    “My dad will be here any minute. You’d better keep those cheap eyes of yours wide open. Not everyone’s fate is as pitiful as yours.” Her arrogance practically radiated from her.


    Christina didn’t respond. She simply stood there, an unreadable smile curling at her lips.


    Soon enough, this foolish girl would realize that the truly pitiful one was the person staring back at her in the mirror.


    Momentster, a middle-aged man in a crisp suit appeared. His expression was guarded as his gaze flicked briefly toward Christina beforending on his daughter.


    “What’s going on? What happened?” he asked, his tone edged with impatience.


    “Dad, she doesn’t believe you’re the director of R&D. Show her your badge and set her straight,” the receptionist said, growing bolder now that her backup had arrived.


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