"If this really were some kind of outlaw den, do you think they'd just let two ladies like you stroll out the front door?"
The security guard sneered, convinced now more than ever that Patty was just a clueless country girl.
Seriously, who still talks about bandit hideouts in this day and age?
With that, he moved to shove them out the door.
Patty instinctively shrank back.
But Celeste stepped forward, her composure unshaken, placing herself squarely between Patty and the guard.
"If I'm not the executive sent by the parent company, then who do you think I am?"
"You?" The guard burst out laughing. "Our higher-ups at Ingrid Group strut around in fur coats every day. You don't look the part."
A vein pulsed at Celeste's temple.
Her mother had built this company from scratch, and now look at what it had become.
Anger surged within her. She brushed the guard aside and strode back to the front desk, tapping her finger sharply on the counter.
"Fine. Why don't you call down your fur-coat-wearing boss to meet me?"
"And why would we—who do you think—"
The receptionist rolled her eyes, ready to dismiss her.
Celeste cut her off with a cold smile, flashing her Duncan Group ID right in the woman's face.
"Because I'm the Deputy General Manager of Duncan Group. That makes me your direct superior's daughter. From now on, whether you wear fur or not, you all answer to me. I'll give you ten minutes."
With that, she turned away, almost lazily, and led Patty over to the lounge.
"Ten minutes. If your management doesn't show up, everyone here can pack their things and leave."

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