CHAPTER 1: CHAPTER 1: REUNION

Poppy Hale never imagined that the leader parachuted into the company was actually her daughter’s biological father.

If she had known she would meet Declan Hawthorne here, Poppy Hale wouldn’t have come to this company no matter what.

A few days ago, the department was buzzing, saying a young and promising leader was being parachuted in.

It was said to be the young master from the family of the Group’s president, born with a silver spoon.

Every line on his life resume was something ordinary people, like them, could never dream of catching up to.

The man standing in the conference room had one hand in his pocket, a custom suit accentuating his noble elegance, tall and distinguished. The youthful naivety of the past had been honed, now young but infinitely dignified.

He held a remote in one distinctively jointed hand, speaking confidently about the information on the PPT.

His deep, pleasing voice resounded in the conference room.

Everyone dared not breathe too heavily, fearing to show any fear in front of this boss.

Poppy Hale wished she could bury her head.

Unfortunately, the conference room floor was polished to a shine, offering not a single crack for Poppy Hale to hide in, brightly illuminating her awkward and embarrassed face.

Even though she knew the group was named Hawthorne, she hadn’t expected it to be Declan Hawthorne’s Hawthorne.

Poppy Hale curled her toes on the ground, her back breaking out in a cold sweat.

A suffocating sensation hit her full on.

Three years.

They hadn’t seen each other for three years and had broken up three years ago.

"Who is responsible for this project?"

From on stage, the low and indifferent voice came, the man’s gaze sweeping over all the employees below, leaving them silent as cicadas in winter, no one daring to speak.

Declan Hawthorne frowned and raised his voice.

"Have you forgotten the project you’re in charge of?"

Poppy Hale’s colleague beside her stood up trembling, terrified: "President Hawthorne, it’s me in charge."

Poppy Hale wondered if it was an illusion, but it seemed in the moment she looked up, her gaze met Declan Hawthorne’s.

It seemed to freeze in the air, and Poppy Hale momentarily forgot to breathe.

Declan quickly looked away and said unkindly, "The content needs to be polished. How could you submit an incomplete report?"

Poppy Hale breathed a sigh of relief.

He probably didn’t see her.

The Poppy Hale of today was very different from the Poppy Hale of three years ago.

She lowered her head, reducing her presence.

Keeping her gaze fixed on the floor, Poppy Hale suddenly noticed a pair of glossy, high-end leather shoes walking up to her.

The whole person felt like she was thrown into the deep sea, the salty water swallowing Poppy Hale’s breath, making her hands and feet numb for an instant.

Declan Hawthorne stood next to her.

The colleague argued, "President Hawthorne, it has already passed by the client..."

The remote in Declan’s hand was thrown onto the table, and he lifted his eyes, his dark eyes cold and glaring, staring at Poppy Hale’s colleague beside her, enunciating each word: "An immature plan is just immature. Using the client as a raft, that’s your standard?"

"Or do you think work is a place for play?"

Those eyes were now full of a condescending examination.

But they were not looking at the colleague next to Poppy Hale reporting, but... looking at her.

Everyone stared at their feet, fearing President Hawthorne’s anger would extend to small fries like them.

Poppy Hale took a deep breath.

Trying to calm herself down.

Declan Hawthorne continued, "Improve it and submit it again."

"Yes, President Hawthorne."

As everyone breathed a sigh of relief, Declan Hawthorne’s gaze also landed on Poppy Hale.

That face, just as beautiful as ever, her figure much thinner.

Now dressed in a professional skirt suit, her hair meticulously pinned behind her ears, still glowing with such brightness, with the dark blueish circles and weariness in her eyes impossible to hide.

Her gaze did not look at him.

Declan Hawthorne then curled his lips into a cold smile and said, "If you submit such a proposal again, you’ll bear the consequences."

The slender fingers tapped disorganizedly on Poppy Hale’s desk.

Poppy Hale knew, this meant he was in a bad mood now.

The dark eyes bore emotions unreadable, just a glance made Poppy Hale’s palms sweaty.

Luckily, he didn’t say more, turning to ask about the progress of other projects.

Poppy Hale’s calves trembled lightly.

After the meeting.

Poppy Hale, with other colleagues, returned to their workstations, and only after drinking half a cup of water was she able to calm down.

Declan Hawthorne also picked on the project of Poppy Hale and her team.

As a result, almost the entire department had to work overtime.

A nearby colleague lamented, "He’s focused on us. Poppy, do you know why President Hawthorne kept standing next to us? It scared me to death!"

Poppy Hale was slightly stunned.

Declan stood next to them, probably to hear her colleague’s response more clearly.

But even when other project teams answered, he didn’t leave.

Standing right beside Poppy Hale the whole time.

Poppy Hale dared not look up, hurriedly leaving after the meeting, not daring to take another glance.

But looking at Declan Hawthorne’s demeanor, he should have forgotten their absurd and short-lived past.

Otherwise, why else would he keep standing beside her and not leave?

Only if he didn’t care would he act so casually.

Declan Hawthorne was once the high-reaching flower of Arvum University’s Economics School, winning the title of the campus prince for four consecutive years.

His romance with Poppy Hale, the Hale Family’s eldest daughter, was also a sensation at the time.

Back then, people said she kept Declan Hawthorne, showering him with money and making him sell himself to her.

Poppy Hale herself believed the same.

After all, Declan Hawthorne looked like a poor college student at the time, but he never accepted the money Poppy offered.

Until Declan’s birthday when Poppy logged into Declan’s shopping account, wanting to see what expensive items he added to his cart but couldn’t bring himself to buy, so she could order them as gifts for him.

Instead, she found private chats between Declan and others in the shopping software.

The other person intimately referred to Declan as "Declan."

They also said he didn’t seem like someone who would like Poppy Hale.

At that moment, Poppy felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over her, drenching her completely.

But it didn’t matter; Declan hadn’t replied, so the gift was still bought.

When Declan received it at his birthday party, he wasn’t surprised or pleased, merely saying a faint thank you.

While taking the opportunity to use the restroom, Poppy settled the bill.

Upon returning, she heard the sharp, satirical voices in the private room.

"If it wasn’t for Eldest Miss Hale shamelessly begging to cling onto Declan, why would Declan be with such a vulgar woman?"

"Exactly, thinking she’s all that just because she has some dirty money."

Declan said something that rang clearly in Poppy’s ears: "I never really took Poppy Hale seriously."

The laughter of those around drowned out his words.

"I told you Declan wouldn’t go for that kind of nouveau riche!"

Poppy could never forget how she felt at that moment, her heart aching so much that she couldn’t breathe, her limbs numb as if electrified.

Coincidentally, something happened at home, and Mr. Hale sent her abroad.

She stayed away for three years.

Three years later, upon returning, who would have thought the new boss would be Declan Hawthorne?

Poppy could never have imagined that the Declan who once needed to rely on part-time jobs and scholarships for meals was actually the sole heir of the Hawthorne Group.

But judging by his manner earlier, perhaps he intends to pretend they are strangers.

That’s good.

Inside the CEO’s office.

Declan Hawthorne sat on the soft leather sofa, his slender fingers clicking the mouse, easily pulling up all employee information.

Poppy Hale’s name was noticeably there.

A year ago, she came here, securing a formal position within a year thanks to her impressive resume and outstanding work abilities and even became a project leader.

Declan’s face was somber, his fingers tapping the desk repeatedly.

Secretary Morgan Sloan stood by, observing his boss’s expression, "President Hawthorne? Is there anything you would like to instruct?"

Declan raised his coffee cup, sipping elegantly, and said calmly, "I’ve just arrived, and I’m not yet familiar with the projects. Introduce these team leaders to me."

Morgan understood and introduced them one by one.

Finally, he mentioned Poppy Hale.

"Hale is young, has only been at headquarters for a year, having worked overseas before with outstanding achievements."

Outstanding achievements?

Declan’s lips curled into a cold smile.

The Eldest Miss Hale he remembered would actually lower herself to work?

It was hard to believe that those so-called achievements weren’t bought with Hale Family’s money.

After all, she loved to spend money to humiliate people.

And she especially loved to, at the height of affection, disappear without a word.

Seeing Declan silent, Morgan continued, "This project is solely managed by Hale, and the board is very optimistic about it."

Morgan sighed slightly.

Poppy Hale had interned with Morgan before, essentially brought up under his guidance.

He admired young people like Poppy, who said little, didn’t cause trouble, and worked competently and methodically.

He couldn’t resist adding a few more words.

"If she doesn’t do well, President Hawthorne, feel free to criticize her, just give her a chance."

Declan raised his eyes coldly, a slight lift of his eyelids, his gaze icy enough to chill someone.

Just one year, and someone already stands up for her?

It seems she still knows how to grasp people’s hearts as always.

Morgan didn’t notice Declan’s expression.

After another sigh, he continued, "Hale’s family isn’t well off, her father passed away, her mother is seriously ill, and she has a young daughter to support, who also isn’t well. Her husband even..."

Declan coldly interrupted, a sharp glare shot over.

"Morgan, am I paying you to gossip?"

Morgan trembled hard, repeatedly apologized, and seeing that Declan had no intention to make things difficult for him, bowed and left the office.

He still hadn’t figured out President Hawthorne’s emotions, seemed like he needed to be careful in the future.

The office fell silent again.

Declan wiped the coffee spill, scrolling down the screen with the mouse.

He opened Poppy Hale’s employee profile.

The ID photo was still from when she insisted they take it together during college.

Scrolling down to the marital status section.

Married.