They Called Me a Gold Digger, So I Dethroned Them All Chapter 07

I was just about to close the door when the elevator dinged open.

Stellan’s chief of staff stepped out with four bodyguards and approached me respectfully.

“Ms. Wetherell, Mr. Arkwright sent us to escort you to Arkwright Group headquarters to sign your employment agreement. Your office as Chief Strategy and Investment Officer is already prepared.”

Hollis froze, his eyes widening in shock.

I walked straight past him without another glance and headed for the elevator.

“Hollis, save those handbags for your sweet, innocent little princess. I’ve got a real nine–figure

fortune to make.”

The atmosphere inside the Chanel couture salon at Vellmont Galleria was noticeably tense.

Maisie stood in a Chanel–inspired tweed suit that didn’t quite fit her, excitedly pointing at a one–of–a–kind feathered gown on display.

“Hollis, that dress is gorgeous! I want to wear it to my university’s anniversary gala next week!”

The sales associate gave her a polite but distant smile.

“I’m sorry, miss, but that gown is a one–of–a–kind couture piece. It’s not available for general purchase, and only a select group of the brand’s private clients are permitted to try it on.”

Hollis frowned, pulled a black credit card from his wallet, and held it out.

“Charge the full price. I’ll cover any additional purchases required, too,

The sales associate didn’t even reach for the card. Her professional smile remained firmly in place.

“Mr. Redgrave, this isn’t something you can simply buy. It’s reserved for a handful of our top

private clients. Ms. Wetherell is one of them.”

At the mention of my name, Hollis’s expression darkened.

Maisie bit her lower lip, her eyes filling with tears.

“Hollis, did I do something wrong again? Maybe I’m just not good enough to wear something this

beautiful…”

Hollis took a deep breath, a faint trace of irritation creeping into his voice.

“Get your regional director out here. I’ve had dinner with executives from your headquarters in

France.”

“Don’t bother. The regional director is busy.”

My cool voice came from the VIP entrance.

I walked in wearing stilettos and a sleek black–and–white pantsuit.

The regional director followed respectfully behind me, carrying a glass of champagne.

“Ms. Wetherell, the three runway pieces you selected have arrived by air. We’ve reserved the fitting suite exclusively for you.”

Maisie’s face drained of color when she saw me. She instinctively shrank behind Hollis.

Hollis stared at me, his expression difficult to read, though his voice carried that familiar, condescending disapproval.

“Blythe, do you really need to make such a production out of visiting a luxury boutique now? It’s ridiculously over the top.”

I stopped and casually looked Maisie up and down behind him.

“Making a production? Hollis, you still don’t understand what’s going on, do you?”

I turned to the regional director.

“Please have the pieces Ms. Orlin handled checked before returning them to display. And I’d appreciate it if you reviewed the Redgraves‘ VIP privileges.”

The regional director nodded without hesitation.

“Understood, Ms. Wetherell.”

Hollis flew into a rage. He stepped forward and demanded in a low voice,

“Blythe Wetherell, what gives you the right to throw your weight around like this? You think just because you’ve gotten close to Stellan Arkwright, you can do whatever you want in Vellmont?”

I gave a scornful laugh and leaned toward his ear, speaking quietly enough that only he could hear.

“Hollis, did you really think Chanel spent the last six years treating us like VIPs because of your Family name?”

“I was the one who helped them win that major intellectual property lawsuit and secure their exclusive distribution agreement in the U.S.”

“Without me, you’re nothing more to them than a rich fool with money to burn.”