Chapter 68
His tone turned dismissive, “Some asset matters to handle.”
Only then did she believe him.
This wasn’t unprecedented.
Truthfully, Cedrick never restricted her financially. Even now, several properties were under her name.
But this brought no joy–his actions remained compensatory gestures.
She hailed a taxi straight to Maynard Group.
Nearly five years had passed since her last visit. Entering the building sparked unease; her sole prior experience here was terrible…
The receptionist was new, unrecognizing her.
“Hello, appointments are required to see Mr. Maynard. Do you have one?”
Classic corporate protocol…
She messaged Cedrick announcing her arrival at reception.
No reply came.
Calling again went unanswered.
Out of options, she identified herself.
The receptionist’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Maynard?”
Then she chuckled, “Miss, if everyone claiming to be Mrs. Maynard circled the globe, we’d need another planet.”
“I’m serious. Check with your Mr. Maynard. Tell him Lucille is here.”
Does Cedrick really get this many visitors?
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Or has this girl been reading too many novels?
“If we checked with him for every single visitor, Mr. Maynard would spend all day dealing with people like you, huh?”
The receptionist rolled her cycs and muttered.
Lucille frowned. “People like me?
What kind of people?”
“Shameless gold–diggers looking for a free ride, obviously!”
The receptionist smirked. “At least other women show up looking presentable. A cripple daring to come here? Seriously, don’t you know your place?”
Lucille couldn’t grasp it. Was it true that birds of a feather flock together?
Outside Cedrick’s circle, strangers never mocked her leg. So why did everyone around him act this way?
“Miss, I suggest you check with him.”
She didn’t want to make things hard for a receptionist. “Is your job to rudely turn away visitors or insult clients?
I’d rather not file a complaint.”
“Well, are you even one? Client or visitor?”
The receptionist pouted irritably but finally called the chief assistant. After explaining who wanted to see Cedrick, she listened to the response–and her chin jerked higher.
“See? My eyes never lie!
They’ve got a built–in hypocrite detector!
Get lost, you shameless hypocrite!
Now!
Or I’ll call security!
The chief assistant said no such person exists!
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And Mrs. Maynard isn’t surnamed Jian!”
“Oh?”
Lucille wasn’t afraid of security. She’d brought all her documents for a visa application today, including her marriage certificate. “Then tell me, what is Mrs. Maynard’s surname?”
The receptionist suddenly smiled. “Sorry, Ms. Hypocrisy. I’m just an honest worker. I don’t know or care about Mr. Maynard’s private life. Unlike some people who’d stoop to anything to climb up–even impersonate his wife! Where’d you get the guts? From that crippled leg?
Listen here: seram now, or I’m calling the police!”
“The police?”
Lucille nodded. “Please do. That’ll save me from showing my marriage certificate. The police can verify who I am.”
“Marriage certificate?
Seriously? Fake, right?
Or do you think Mr. Maynard’s blind?
Marrying a cripple?”
Grinning broadly, the receptionist froze as the elevator doors opened. A woman in professional attire stepped out.
“Ms. Sterling.”
The receptionist instantly turned respectful.
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