The receptionist's irritation was now barely masked.
She didn't even bother with a fake smile as she glared at Aurelia. "Who do you think you are? Do you still believe you're some rich girl? Parading around here like you're someone important. If you know what's good for you, you'd leave now. Otherwise, I'll call security, and we'll see how humiliated you'll be then."
Aurelia's face burned with anger, her fists clenching at her sides.
Twenty-three years of life, and she had never been spoken to in such a degrading manner.
Her fury boiled, but she kept her chin high.
"I'd like to see who would dare throw me out!" she snapped back, her voice laced with defiance.
The receptionist smirked, unshaken.
Everyone knew that their president, Mr Kings, despised Aurelia more than anyone.
He had taken everything from her family, the company, the status, the influence.
So the receptionist felt confident as she reached over and pressed the call button to summon security.
Aurelia crossed her arms, standing her ground, but unease crept into her heart.
Was this truly Alexanderz's doing?
If he had instructed this treatment, then today would indeed be a public humiliation.
The sound of approaching footsteps made her heart race. She didn't dare turn around until a familiar voice broke through the tension.
"Miss Prescott, are you here to see the president?"
Aurelia spun on her heel, startled.
It was Assistant foster, Alexanderz' special assistant. His presence was a surprise, and yet his tone remained polite, even respectful.
Assistant foster's gaze lingered on Aurelia for a moment. She was still beautiful and proud, her elegance undiminished despite her downfall.
For a second, sympathy flickered in his eyes, but he quickly buried it.
This was a matter between the Prescott family and his employer, President Kings. He was just an assistant; he couldn't meddle.
With a slight bow, he gestured toward the elevator. "Miss Prescott, please follow me."
Aurelia didn't move right away. She turned her head slightly, her cold glare settling on the receptionist.
Even if the Prescott family had fallen, she was still a Prescott. She wouldn't let herself be treated like dirt.
Assistant foster, quick to understand her unspoken demand, cleared his throat and addressed the receptionist firmly. "Miss Prescott is a guest of the president. I suggest you show more respect next time."
The receptionist's face paled, and she shrank back, mumbling a hurried apology.
Satisfied, Aurelia turned and followed Assistant foster to the exclusive elevator reserved for the president.
The 30th Floor
As the elevator doors slid open, Aurelia stepped into the bustling secretary's office.
The entire floor froze as heads turned to stare at her. The whispers were immediate, quiet but palpable.
Aurelia smirked, her lips curling into a bitter sneer.
It seemed her name had indeed become infamous within Kingcrest International
But what she didn't see was the secretary closest to her discreetly pulling out their phone and making a call the moment she walked past.
Assistant foster led her to the grand double doors of the president's office and opened them with a practiced flourish.
The room beyond was vast and imposing. The decor was a study in iron-gray, cool, stark, and unyielding, just like its owner.
Black, white, and gray dominated every inch of the space, from the walls to the sleek furniture.
Aurelia stepped inside, her heels clicking against the polished floor. This was the first time that Aurelia had come to his office.