His words were directed at Daniel.
There was no way Daniel would back down. Asking him to apologize to Tiffany in this lifetime was nothing short of a fantasy.
He let out a disdainful snort. "Her? She's not even worthy."
"Lambert, let it go." After Daniel's remark, Tiffany felt the air around them grow icy, the atmosphere thick with tension as if a storm were about to erupt. Trembling, she tugged at Lambert's sleeve and pleaded in a whisper,
"It's just a trivial matter. There's no need to make such a fuss. We're here to deliver documents—the product launch is what really matters." The more she tried to reason with him, the more anxious she became. She shook his arm, but he remained unmoved.
If not for Mia standing between him and Daniel, Lambert would have already torn Daniel apart. The only reason he held back was out of consideration for Mia—yet it was also because of her that his restraint was wearing thin.
Two conflicting emotions warred within him, neither gaining the upper hand. His gaze, cold as death, bore into Daniel as if he could flay him alive.
"Daniel, you should leave. It's almost work hours—don't you have a surgery scheduled this afternoon?" Mia turned and pulled Daniel toward the door.
Out of respect for her, Daniel followed, though resentment simmered in his chest. "What else is there to say to him? Mia, your constant compromises will only make him hurt you even more. His attitude hasn't changed at all. A few sweet words and tender glances won't rekindle what you once had—it's not that easy."
This was the girl he'd give anything for, yet in front of Lambert, she alternated between vulnerability and pretense. It pained him to watch.
"I'm not the weak, easily bullied Mia from before. Don't worry—forgiving Lambert is the last thing I'd ever do." The words spilled out with conviction as she escorted Daniel into the elevator.
When she returned to the office, the standoff persisted. Lambert's eyes locked onto her the moment she entered. "Tiffany, leave. I need to talk to Mia."
Though reluctant, Tiffany had no choice but to slip away quietly. Two years, and she still hadn't secured an engagement with Lambert—now, it was even more impossible. That regret and hatred settled squarely on Mia's shoulders.
"Listen to me. I wasn't defending anyone—I just couldn't stand someone flaunting their presence beside you." Once the door closed, his hands rested naturally on her shoulders as he leaned in, voice earnest.
For once, she didn't interrupt. She actually seemed to be listening. But the unexpected attention left him stumbling, unsure where to begin.
His lips parted. "Two years ago, I didn't abandon you. I sent Ethan to find you immediately, but he got into an accident—I lost contact.
I was on my way to you
when my grandfather fell critically ill. He clung to my hand—I couldn't leave. By the time I reached the hospital, the baby was gone, and Daniel had taken you away. I couldn't find you."
"You mean my corpse, right? You'd already assumed I was dead. This elaborate act was just to protect your reputation. Don't you know exactly how you treated me? Lambert, in just a few sentences, you used three 'buts'—all these coincidences happening in one day? Do you expect me to believe that?"
She pushed his hands off her shoulders. This was the first time he'd ever spoken so much to her, the first time he'd ever seemed this vulnerable. But what did it matter to her now?
Lambert stood frozen, as if all strength had drained from him.
He'd lost the Mia who once adored him—lost her to his own indifference, his harsh words.
Every explanation felt hollow. He'd thought confessing the truth would mend things, but he'd been wrong. Dead wrong.
"Mia—"
"Don't call me that. It makes me sick. Leave." Her interruption was sharp, final.
He wanted to stay longer, but she was already walking away, phone in hand. He had no choice but to follow.
Tiffany stayed, and Lambert was driven out.
---
That afternoon, the beta test for Product M was conducted in Martha's conference room, attended exclusively by the company's executives.
As the presenter and lead organizer, Tiffany had orchestrated everything—including secretly live-streaming the event via a hidden camera button on her blouse.
Her plan was simple: maximize hype today to ensure a steep sales drop after tomorrow's launch. Knockoff versions might even flood the market by tonight, costing Martha a fortune.
Everything was ready.
With a polished presentation and a flawless test run, Tiffany beamed. "Product M is perfect for release. I recommend launching at midnight to capitalize on early demand. Mia, what do you think?"
"Let's hear everyone's thoughts." Mia turned to the group.
A voice countered, "Midnight is a dead zone. What executive would stay up to place orders? Product M targets high-end clients—this would cheapen its image."
"Mrs. Garcia's expertise lies in research, not sales. She's out of her depth here."
Tiffany flushed. "Fine, I'm no expert. But without me securing Mr. Chen's backing, Martha wouldn't even have this product. I was merely suggesting—no need for hostility. I'm not a Martha employee."
Just wait, she seethed. Soon, the internet would explode, and these hypocrites would turn on Mia like vultures.
"Since you aren't an employee, stick to your role. Wenshte Group may be powerful, but they still sold Product M to us." A shareholder smirked, cutting her down.
Ten minutes passed. Nothing. Tiffany's nerves frayed as she glanced at the door—where was Gene with the expected chaos?
"Product M doesn't need online sales. Wenshte's ads have done the work. We'll simply announce ownership and finalize contracts with their pre-arranged clients."
"Agreed. Ms. White, your laptop, please." Mia took Tiffany's device and wiped every trace of Product M before destroying it outright. Tiffany gaped.
"What the hell are you doing?"