?Chapter 157:
Though Jamir stayed quiet, his eyes gleamed with respect, and his usual reserve seemed to thaw as he looked at Ste. Everyone could appreciate what it meant to have trulypetent colleagues.
Ste offered Elbert a modest smile. “Thanks,” she replied, her voice warm but even.
Cecelia lingered at a distance, her arms crossed and a bitter scowl tugging at her mouth, while the others crowded around Ste’s desk, their praise echoing through theb. Jealousy simmered beneath her frustration.
It was just proofreading. She didn’t see what the fuss was about. It was nothing more than double-checking numbers and skimming data, hardly a challenge worthy of apuse.
Refusing to shrink away, Cecelia lifted her chin defiantly, her pride refusing to let her acknowledge Ste’s achievement.
Once the workday finally ended, Elbert seized the moment. It was their very first day as a team, and everything had gone off without a hitch—so why not celebrate?
“Let’s grab dinner together tonight,” he suggested, his tone warm and encouraging. “I’ll make a reservation. How does a buffet sound to everyone?”
Sandra instantly lit up, throwing her hand in the air. “Yes, please! I can’t remember thest time I had a buffet. Count me in!”
Across the room, Ste hesitated, exhaustion clinging to her shoulders after a long day on her feet. She looked ready to make an excuse, but Sandra noticed and quickly looped her arm through Ste’s. “Come on, Sylvia! We’re a team now. You have to join us!”
With Sandra’s insistence and everyone watching, Ste managed a reluctant nod.
The group headed out to the buffet restaurant. As soon as they settled in, Sandra dragged Ste with her toward the sprawling food disys, chattering excitedly about all the dishes she nned to pile on her te.
Meanwhile, Cecelia hung back, slouched at the edge of the table and absently scrolling through her phone.
The ce for great stories: g?lnσν???s
That persistent feeling of déjà vu nagged at her—she’d definitely seen Sylvia somewhere before, but the memory kept slipping away. Unable to shake it, Cecelia quietly messaged a friend and asked them to dig up some information.
The revtion left Cecelia reeling—Sylvia was the spitting image of the Walsh Group CEO’ste wife, Ste Russell.
The timing, the circumstances, even Sylvia’s low-key debut in the public eye lined up so well it felt almost scripted. It was too much to be a coincidence. Cecelia’s gut told her that Sylvia and Ste were one and the same.
Choria’s rumor mill had long whispered about the CEO’s heartbreak after Ste’s “death,” his legendary devotion turning into a ghost that haunted the city’s elite. But did he even realize that Ste hadn’t vanished at all? That she’d used the research institute as cover, shed her old identity, and stepped straight into a brand-new life?
.
.
.