Chapter 885

The corporate world preached gender equality, yet when evaluating leadership potential, unconscious bias still favored men.

Nathan Blackwood remained silent.

Julian Whitmore leaned forward. "But I have higher hopes for Cassandra Blake. She's exceptionally competent for her age - barely thirty and already at this level. We could market her as the beautiful, ambitious CEO breaking glass ceilings. She'd be perfect as our Pacific Crest International face for Asia!"

Nathan's voice turned icy. "Don't pretend you don't know how she climbed so fast. Her political maneuvering can't compare to Nathaniel Graves' actual qualifications."

Julian stiffened.

A heavy silence fell between them.

Then Julian's lips curled into an amused smirk. "Since when did you care about corporate networking? You're sounding just like Evelyn—oh wait, your ex-wife!"

Nathan froze, his piercing gaze locking onto Julian. "Who did you just mention?"

"Evelyn Sinclair. President of Sterling Enterprises now. Did you know she interned at Pacific Crest International for two months during her European years? Who would've guessed a trust fund princess would bother with internships?" Julian shook his head in disbelief.

"Evelyn Sinclair worked at Pacific Crest?" Nathan's voice dropped dangerously low. "You didn't know?" Julian chuckled. "Out of all the interns, I picked her because she was brilliant, beautiful, and relentless. I planned to groom her as my protégé—took her to every important meeting."

His expression turned rueful. "Then at one client dinner, a drunk executive demanded she drink. The contract was nearly signed—I just wanted her to take one sip. I poured the wine myself to ensure it was safe."

Julian's fingers tapped the armrest. "She threw the glass in my face and quit on the spot. Haven't spoken since." His laugh held no real humor. "Now I understand—she was Sterling Enterprises' heiress all along. No wonder she dared humiliate her boss."

Nathan's expression darkened, thoughts churning. 'Our paths crossed long before we knew. If only we'd met differently...'

Oblivious, Julian continued, "Her file's long gone—just an intern back when record-keeping was lax. She left a phone number, but judging by her glare earlier, she still despises me." He sighed dramatically. "Such wasted potential."

The office fell silent again.

Nathan massaged his temples. "Let's table the Asia president decision. We'll monitor the situation."

Julian smirked. "Don't say I didn't warn you. Those two won't sit idle—they're probably already in Montecito making moves."

Nathan remained impassive.

To him, ambition without action showed weakness—but ruthless scheming revealed dangerous selfishness. Even Julian couldn't decipher what Nathan truly wanted.

Days later.

The expected power struggle at Blackwood Industries never materialized—Nathan's iron control smoothed all turbulence.

In a penthouse suite at The Regal Grand, Julian lay tangled with a naked woman.

Post-coital, she pouted. "Mr. Whitmore, any updates from Mr. Blackwood about the Asia position?"

Julian abruptly stood and dressed. "No idea." His tone left no room for further questions.