Delete My Love for You novel Chapter 197

A memorial service?

Was she cursing someone to die?

Xena forced a smile. “Oh, Mrs. Fairchild, you must be joking. Kicking off a new project with a meeting is just standard practice—meant to build morale and coordinate everyone’s efforts.”

“You’re a genius, so you probably find these protocols beneath you. I get it. I won’t assume your N-LINK Group lacks discipline just because you don’t care for the rules.”

Charlotte barely flicked her gaze up. “N-LINK only does real work. We don’t waste time on pointless formalities.”

“Because if Ms. Lancaster keeps giving speeches like this, give it six months and your company will be going downhill fast. Within three years, the stock price will be in freefall.”

The words hit the table like a hammer. Xena’s face drained of color.

The entire room fell silent.

Most of the professors here were just as fed up with Xena’s pointless meetings, but Ms. Lee was the only one bold enough to say it out loud.

At the head of the table, Darren’s brow furrowed.

He’d had his hair specially styled today, secretly hoping Charlotte would look at him—just once, that was all he wanted.

But instead? She ignored him completely, too busy humiliating Xena.

Darren felt a twist of jealousy. He blurted out, “Whatever Ms. Lancaster says or does, she’s speaking for me. If you’ve got a problem, Ms. Lee, take it up with me.”

What he really wanted to say was screaming inside: Charlotte, would you just look at me for once?

But what came out—no matter his intent—sounded, to everyone else, exactly like the classic overbearing husband jumping to defend his wife.

Xena instantly looked as if she’d just been injected with pure confidence; her smugness practically spilled over.

She shot Charlotte a sidelong glance, thinking, See that? So what if you’re a genius? So what if you work yourself to the bone just to be extraordinary?

You have to fight for a scrap of his approval.

But me? I don’t have to lift a finger.

Just because I’m Xena, he’ll always stand up for me, always put me first.

That’s what it means to be the favorite—the kind of privilege you’ll never touch.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify