Camila Davis couldn’t help but laugh at the other woman’s desperate bravado.
She hadn’t planned on wasting her breath on this nonsense.
But if someone was going to hand her the perfect opportunity to deliver a verbal smackdown, well—why not go all in?
Camila’s striking blue eyes flickered with a hint of mockery as she replied coolly, “You’re right. Some things just can’t be learned by watching from the sidelines.
I started developing this system three years ago—countless late nights, endless cups of coffee, and way too many cold pizzas. That’s what it took to get here, to the top of the food chain.
Now, our product is untouchable in the market… And you—well, you’re clearly still scrambling to catch up, aren’t you?”
Sandra Taylor’s expression froze.
For a second, she honestly wondered if she’d misheard.
“What… what did you just say??”
She was so shocked her voice jumped an octave. “Are you saying this company—The Smith Group—belongs to you?!”
Camila didn’t even bother to answer.
Instead, Walter Wilson, who’d been quietly watching the showdown, spoke up with a smirk, “N. Z Teck stands for ‘Nora’ and ‘Zane’—the initials. Isn’t that obvious? Come on, Sandra. No need to act so surprised.”
Sandra went pale.
No way.
Absolutely no freaking way.
There was no chance Camila Davis was the brains behind N. Z Teck’s system. None.
Seeing Sandra’s face twist in disbelief, Camila felt a wave of satisfaction.
She hadn’t forgotten how Sandra had once strutted around and kicked her out of The Smith Group without a second thought.
With a deliberately casual tone, Camila said, “Oh, so The Smith Group finally appreciates this system? Why didn’t you say so before? Maybe I would’ve licensed it to you…
After all, The Smith Group was my old stomping ground. And Jordan Smith is—at least on paper—still my husband.


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