At the entrance of the meeting room, a tall, cool figure suddenly appeared.
Cecilia Vaughn's appearance was exquisitely stunning, but her whole demeanor was nothing like an ordinary dainty woman—rather, it held an air of aloof resilience, set apart from the world.
Like a white flower blooming on the edge of a sheer cliff, indifferent to the battering wind and rain.
Standing behind Cecilia was a big, sturdy man, almost 1.9 meters tall, with muscles bulging beneath his long-sleeved T-shirt—clearly someone who practiced martial arts.
Fiona Vaughn stared at the icy Cecilia, and her fist under the table clenched tightly on instinct!
That little bitch actually has the nerve to show up here!
Just who does she think she is?!
Joan Sinclair, that old hag, had already been beaten down by their people, and the confession about the forged inheritance papers was in hand—did Cecilia really think she could smoothly inherit shares of Radiant Group?
Daydreaming!
...
