In the end, Arianna couldn't resist Josephine King’s persistence. She and Maxwell returned home, their car overflowing with shopping bags.

Inside the car, Arianna stared at the array of jewelry boxes stacked in the backseat, feeling a bit dazed. "Isn't this... a bit too much?"

"It’s fine," Maxwell replied, clearly repeating the lesson he’d just learned from his mother. "If you don't wear them, you can just keep them out to look at."

Arianna: "..."

When they got home that evening, Maxwell pulled a thick envelope from his pocket. Before they had left, Leonard King had handed them each an envelope—both felt heavy with cash. He held it out to Arianna.

Arianna looked at him, confused. "Why are you giving this to me?"

Maxwell arched a brow, his voice dropping into a playful, warm register. "Didn't you give yours to me last time? Now it’s my turn to give mine to you."

Like two children trading allowance. How absurdly cute.

Arianna curled her lips into a smile, taking the envelope. "Fine. I’ll reluctantly accept it, then."

Maxwell chuckled.

Next came the ritual of opening the gifts. Arianna started with the one Maxwell had just given her. Inside was a stack of crisp, vibrant bills, the edges sharp enough to cut. Tucked right at the top was a small sticky note.

Arianna unfolded it. Written in elegant script, it read:

*Be a good boy and listen to your wife. Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.*

Arianna held the note for a few seconds, completely stunned. She couldn't wrap her head around the idea of the stern, stoic Mr. King writing something so informal to his own son. It was no wonder their family dynamic was so surprisingly warm.

Maxwell hadn’t expected to find a "personal touch" tucked inside. He stared at the note for a moment before sighing helplessly. "This was my sister's handwriting."

Arianna understood immediately. "Oh, I see."

"But the fact that it made it into the envelope," Maxwell added with a slow grin, "means my parents gave it their stamp of approval."

Arianna: "..."

Next, Arianna opened her own envelope. To her surprise, there was no note inside—just another thick stack of cash, with a sleek, matte-black credit card resting right on top.

Wait... what?

Arianna froze. She looked down, then back up, double-checking that she was actually holding a Black Card.

Maxwell took in her reaction, finding her utter bewilderment charming. He leaned in, a soft smile playing on his lips. "It’s a gesture from the elders. It wouldn't be polite to refuse, so just keep it."

***

The Riverside project had officially wrapped up, and Arianna was no longer required to participate in the follow-up sessions. After yesterday’s debrief meeting at the office and filing her final report, she had spent most of the day coasting until clock-out time.

Her previous responsibilities had been fully handed over to Jenna Lawson. Arianna had effectively become an idle staff member with no "home" to go to.

Thankfully, shortly after arriving at the office, she received a call from Miranda Green, the department manager, asking her to come to her office. It was almost certainly to hand down a new assignment.

Arianna breathed a sigh of relief, her step light as she headed down the hall.

Miranda was sitting behind her desk in a sharp, tailored blazer, her hair pulled back into a sophisticated knot. She looked professional, composed, and striking. A bright, confident smile graced her face.

Her first words were blunt: "So, what are your thoughts right now?"

Arianna was caught off guard by the sudden question. She hesitated. "I don’t really have any."

"Then why are you here today?"

Arianna replied, "To receive my next project assignment."

Miranda rested her hands on the desk, interlacing her fingers. She stared straight at Arianna, eyes gleaming with a knowing look. "Arianna, do you have any issues with me?"

Miranda paused, allowing the silence to stretch. "I gave the work that used to be yours to... Jenna. Jenna Lawson."

"Aren't you even a little bit frustrated? That was your project." Miranda’s voice was gentle, almost coaxing. "It’s just the two of us here. You can be honest."

Arianna met her gaze. "I was a little frustrated, actually."

Miranda let out a soft laugh. "Your face showed a lot more than 'a little.'"

Arianna: "..."

"In the corporate world, an inability to mask your emotions is a major weakness," Miranda tapped the desk, her tone measured. "Especially during negotiations. If the other side sees a flicker of irritation on your face, they’ll have your hand tipped before you even open your mouth."

"You need to learn how to keep your poker face on."

Arianna nodded. "I understand. I'll work on it."

"Putting that aside, what do you want to do with your career?"

It was the kind of question Arianna hadn't heard since elementary school—*what do you want to be when you grow up?*

Miranda continued, "To put it another way, you've been working with the product team, but what’s your long-term plan? Project lead? Department manager?"

Arianna blinked. "What do you mean?"

Miranda stopped beating around the bush. "I’m planning to move you to Charlotte Marshall’s team. You’ll be her assistant."

"Her previous assistant just transferred to the Marketing department for a rotational assignment. They’ll return in three months to lead their own team as a project manager."

Charlotte Marshall was one of the heavyweights Arianna had heard so much about. She was a legend in the office—an expert in the consumer goods sector, known for her surgical precision and ruthless efficiency. Many of the successful case studies her team produced were mandatory reading for new hires. Arianna had known of her by reputation since her very first day.

Arianna was stunned. "Manager Green, I..."

"I believe in you," Miranda said with a smile. "I’ve given you enough tests, and you’ve managed to exceed expectations every single time. You’re truly capable."

Arianna felt like she’d been hit by a tidal wave of good luck. She had just been hoping for a stable assignment, but landing a spot as Charlotte Marshall’s assistant? That was the dream role for almost everyone in the company.

But why her?

Miranda looked up from her desk. "Do you know Bianca Roberts, the Deputy VP?"

"I know of her." But that was it. They had never actually crossed paths.

"She used to be my direct supervisor back when I was just a small team lead. She was the one who pulled me up to this position," Miranda’s expression was calm, thoughtful. "She told me once that the corporate world needs more women, especially in leadership."

"The menstrual leave policy we have here? She was the one who proposed it and fought to push it through. Now, every single woman in this company benefits from it."

"Her exact words were that women need to have a greater voice in the workplace."

At this, Miranda chuckled, a flicker of pride in her eyes. "You might not know this, but Charlotte Marshall was once my subordinate. Her current assistant was also trained by her, and now that assistant is returning from rotation to lead a team."

"Some people will say this isn't fair. Don't talk to me about fairness."

"Four years ago, I was competing for a promotion against Travis Powell. My performance metrics were significantly higher than his, but just because I was a woman—because I didn't have that 'innate leadership' nonsense—the position went to him."

When she spoke of the past, there was a sharp edge of bitterness, but it quickly faded into triumph.

"But look at us now. We’re on the same level."

"When I gave you that independent assignment last time, I saw him rolling his eyes behind my back, yet he didn't dare say a single word to my face."

"Of course, I owe all of this to Bianca. Without her, I would still be trapped in that circle of being labeled a 'young woman' with 'no leadership potential'."

"I can't change the world overnight, but I will do my part." Miranda leaned forward. "Of course, I didn't choose you just for that. You have the talent, and I believe you can handle the role."

"Charlotte is a good person. She’ll guide you well. You’re already familiar with how things run here, so stop worrying. There’s nothing to be afraid of."