Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 19: First Day V

Gianna wasn’t one to gloat over her designs, or feel smug over her designing prowess, but beholding Daphne’s face as the latter went through her designs elicited the smug feeling from her, the sensation unfurling warm and slow inside her chest.

And observing the anger and frustration slip out of the latter’s shoulders and body with every look at each design on paper, made her gloat inwardly, made her spine lengthen as she relaxed further into her chair; made her assured of her place in this company.

Esme or not, foolish secretary or not, she wouldn’t be leaving this place for a while. Unless she wanted to.

"What do you think, Daphne? Do you still want her gone?" Arthur asked, tone light but watching the woman closely.

Daphne took a while answering the question, as a matter of fact she didn’t until she was done analyzing the drawings before her. Her brows softened, her fingers slowed on the pages, her jaw unclenching one hesitant millimeter at a time.

"I’m sure we can give her the benefit of doubt," Daphne spoke finally. "As for the secretary, we should send her off to Esme... anything to keep Gianna’s creative juices flowing."

Then she met Gianna’s steady gaze, and smiled. "You are one creative designer, Gianna Aldo, and it would be a pleasure working with you."

The only two women in the room stood up as if on cue, and shook each other warmly, genuine smiles on their faces, the tension dissolving like smoke around them.

"But I have to warn..." Daphne said, as their hands fell to their sides. "I really don’t tolerate arrogant designers who step on others."

Gianna nodded meekly, firmly still. "Of course. And I guarantee that I am far from that."

"Good. Cheers then to a profitable relationship."

They toasted to the air, Gianna following Daphne’s act, a chuckle breaking before she could stop it, feeling utmostly relaxed. Maybe, she had worried for nothing.

When they returned to their seats, the males were staring at them unabashedly with an expression that could be likened to unbelief, one that made it look like the women were suddenly crazy.

But Arthur though had a smile on his face. Things were looking up. Already, he could see Gianna clutching the prize at the convention. He couldn’t wait.

"Since all that is resolved, we apologize then, Gianna, for making accusations without confirmations. Be rest assured that the secretary will be taken care of." He said.

Then turning to his son. "Go with her, and make the necessary introductions in the company... should be enough to quell the rumours."

Mason nodded to his father’s suggestion and got to his feet, before meeting Gianna’s gaze across the table, and winking at her.

He smiled when her lips twitched, hovering between making a snort or scoff. He was sure though that the latter had been made in her mind.

"Twice already in the boardroom... winning both arguments, both meetings. I think you have broken a record... set one and broken it at the same time." Mason started as they walked into the elevator.

Already, he had told his assistant to issue a memo to every worker in the company; they would be waiting in the largest hall in the building, where national and international meetings, conferences, were being held.

Gianna shrugged meanwhile. "I am not totally pleased with it. I would rather stick with my drawings, director..."

"Please call me Mason," he said tiredly, punching in the number of the floor they were heading to. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Is that a thing with you guys here... running from titles?" she asked, recalling that Daphne too, hadn’t wanted to be called deputy director.

"Maybe... it makes the name-calling easier, no? Mason. I would prefer that."

Gianna nodded. Mason it was.

She accepted the silence that came after that, folding her hands across her chest, although distinctly aware of Mason throwing surreptitious glances at her intermittently.

The silence held until the elevator dinged announcing they were right on the wanted floor. Head high, she strolled out of the elevator, without waiting for Mason.

Outside though, noting that he wasn’t with her, she turned her head aside. "Aren’t you coming, Mason?"

"Oh, I am. Was lost in thoughts for a while."

Gianna didn’t bother asking what the thoughts were. She already had enough on her plate.

So, she strolled further, already picking out the door on the floor that would usher her into a room full of the employees of Becketts Jewelries, from the muted noises that slithered and hung in the corridor.

At the door though, she paused, looking with furrowed brows at Mason who seemed to be taking his precious time walking to her.

When he expected her to question him, she said nothing, instead reverting her attention to the door.

For a moment, he was tempted to stand with her, until she said something, but in the same second, he knew that was like shooting his own foot, it was quite desperate too.

And she wouldn’t do desperate. No. She would rather he maintained some sort of professionality. He held in a snort, and pushed the door open.

The sound died instantly.

Conversation cut off mid-syllable. Papers stilled. The shifting of feet halted. Even breathing seemed to hesitate.

The hall—wide enough to host two international conferences at a time—felt suddenly too small, the air heavy with expectation and disapproval.

Hundreds of eyes tracked Gianna as she stepped in first, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor with a confidence she did not fully feel. Mason followed a step behind, his expression schooled into the kind of cool authority inherited from lineage and carved by responsibility.

Gianna felt the weight of every stare: some sharp with hostility, others narrowed with resentment, a few tinged with curiosity... and many glinting with that quiet, ugly delight that people reserved for a scandal they had not paid for.

But she didn’t flinch. She didn’t bow her head. She didn’t let them taste even a drop of discomfort. Her chin rather rose a fraction higher.

Mason walked beside her now, his shoulder almost brushing hers, his stride steady in a way that seemed designed to signal to the hall she belongs here. Not as a guest. Not as a mistake. But as someone under the direct protection of authority.

When they reached the podium at the center of the hall, he stepped ahead of her, positioning himself between Gianna and the sea of faces.

He cleared his throat once. "Good afternoon."

A few workers straightened reflexively.

"You’ve all heard the rumors," he continued. "And judging from the looks on some of your faces," his gaze swept meaningfully over a row of gossip-hungry supervisors, "I’d say you’ve been enjoying those rumors a little too much."

A ripple ran through the crowd.

Gianna folded her arms loosely, standing still beside him, eyes steady on the hall as Mason spoke with an authority that bordered on cold steel.

"Let me make something very clear," Mason said. He stepped forward, voice darkening. "Gianna Aldo is not under investigation. She is not being disciplined. She is not being removed. She is not a threat to this company."

He paused. "She is an asset."

Gianna saw the way jaws tightened, saw the resentment flare in a few eyes—especially those who had already rehearsed her downfall in their heads.

Mason’s gaze sharpened. "If anyone has doubts about her skill, I invite you to explain your expertise to the board members who just spent the morning praising her work."

"As for the incident with the secretary," He continued, his tone cooling even further, "we have reviewed the situation, and the secretary in question acted outside her authority."

His eyes cut toward the trembling young woman seated at the far left of the hall—Grace. She shrank in her seat.

"Effective immediately, Grace will no longer serve as Miss Aldo’s secretary. A new, competent, and professional replacement will be assigned."

Grace’s eyes filled with wet humiliation, one that eroded that defiance that had festered there earlier.

Gianna did not look away from the ex-secretary wiping her tears. If anything, she was enjoying it too much.

Her attention was cut though, when Mason extended a hand slightly toward her, like unveiling something valuable.

"And now," he said, "I expect all departments to work with Miss Aldo with the same respect and professionalism you show the heads of this company."

He waited a beat, as if expecting a resistance. And when silence greeted him, he nodded once. "Dismissed."