Ethan stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear.

His expression was grim, his posture rigid.

“Execute my orders. I want the entire secretarial team at the branch office replaced by tomorrow morning.”

His voice was cold, leaving no room for argument as he spoke to Benjamin.

Sophia stopped in her tracks, surprised.

A complete overhaul like that only happened when there was serious mismanagement.

She quickened her pace, but by the time she reached him, he had ended the call.

“Ethan…” Her voice was a soft, pleading whisper. Her eyes widened, feigning innocence. “I truly don’t understand what I did wrong…”

Ethan turned, his gaze sharp and penetrating. “Olivia has already dealt with the maid who brought me the drink.”

Sophia’s face tightened. The urge to speak, to blame Isabella for everything, was overwhelming.

But his next words froze the protest on her lips.

“There will be no second chances.”

He turned and walked away without another glance.

She stood frozen, her nails digging into her palms.

Why did Olivia always interfere? And Isabella was the real snake!

Ethan’s movements at breakfast were a study in controlled elegance.

Every gesture was precise, every motion effortless.

Olivia watched him, her chin resting on her hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

A sly smile played on her lips.

“You seem rather energetic this morning, Mr. Blackwood. Did you sleep well last night?”

His deep eyes lifted to meet hers. “Well enough,” he replied softly.

She laughed lightly, but her tone was teasing. “Just ‘well enough’? The butler mentioned you were in Miss Scott’s room all night. You only left this morning after getting the full story.” Her smile widened. “I heard you were even careful not to wake her. It seems I’ve discovered for whom you were cooking last night.”

Ethan’s grip on his cutlery faltered for a fraction of a second.

A shadow crossed his face, but he remained silent.

He set down his knife and fork.

He picked up his napkin and dabbed his lips with practiced grace.

“You have a great deal of free time on your hands, Olivia,” he remarked, his tone detached.

She gave a casual shrug. “What can I say? The theater of life is endlessly entertaining. Especially your performances.”

Ethan took a calm sip of his coffee, utterly unruffled by her prodding.

Just then, Sophia approached, a tablet in her hand.

She positioned herself beside Olivia.

“Ms. Sterling, the initial designs from the branch’s design team have come in,” she said, her voice professionally soft.

Olivia glanced at the tablet.

The screen displayed a series of overly ornate and gaudy dress designs.

Each one was excessively flattering.

Beneath the images, fawning text praised Olivia’s elegance and unparalleled grace.