The Paper Wife’s Empire novel Chapter 55

Mr. Wallace joined in with a laugh. “Exactly! The Covington Group’s heir? Someone of that status doesn’t need to come here begging us for investment. Why don’t you just have a few drinks with us? Then we can talk business.”

Mr. Tate even reached out, trying to slip an arm around Ramona’s shoulders. She sidestepped him, but he just clicked his tongue in disdain. “You should be grateful we’re even willing to negotiate with you. Don’t push your luck.”

Ramona looked at their smug faces, then calmly reached into her velvet clutch and pulled out a gold-embossed signet.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure you recognize this?”

The signet was no bigger than half a palm, its surface engraved with the Covington Group’s hundred-year legacy and the name of its current head. In Havencrest City’s business world, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t recognize it.

“The Covington Group’s heir’s golden signet? …There’s no way that’s real…”

A hesitant voice broke the silence, immediately casting doubt on the authenticity of the piece.

But everyone knew the Covington Group’s signet was special. It shimmered with a unique blue-violet glow under the light, impossible to replicate.

Ramona opened her palm, and the signet glowed unmistakably in the lamp’s glow.

“Don’t you watch the news? There really is an heiress who inherited billions…” someone whispered.

“She might really be…”

“The Covington signet uses a special alloy, only the heir has one. That blue-violet shine is its security feature. No forger could ever copy it.”

“If you don’t believe me,” Ramona said, her eyes steady, “feel free to call the Covington Group’s legal department right now. Give them my name. See if they know who I am.”

Without waiting for a response, she pulled out a voice recorder from her purse and played back a recording.

The conversation from earlier—her attempts to discuss the project, their constant interruptions about drinks and investments—came through loud and clear.

“I didn’t record this to make trouble for anyone,” Ramona said evenly. “Just a friendly reminder: if your company wants to bid on a Covington Group project, what we value most is professionalism and genuine partnership.”

“If a recording like this—trading drinks for investments—found its way to the Covington Group, do you really think your company would still be in the running?”

Mr. Tate’s face darkened. He lunged for the recorder. “Ms. Jarrett, are you trying to set us up?”

“Set you up?” Ramona’s voice was ice-cold. “You’re the ones who tried to turn a business negotiation into a drinking contest. If I really wanted to make trouble, I’d have recorded a lot more than this.”

They’d tried to use alcohol to test Ramona’s limits, but never expected she’d record their unprofessional behavior, and hold the winning card for the Covington Group bid right in her hands.

They’d really picked the wrong target this time. They hadn’t just offended Ramona, they’d offended the Covington heir herself.

Ramona slid the investment contract across the table to them.

“The contract terms haven’t changed. The investment amount is exactly what we discussed. If you’re still interested, you can sign right now.”

“If you’re looking for future Covington projects, I can make sure my team gives your company priority. But if drinks matter more to you than business, let’s just pretend this meeting never happened. I’ll call up the other investors tomorrow.”

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify