Even though the company staff had already reined themselves in, those curious, speculative glances were impossible to ignore.

Sylvie pressed her lips into a thin line. She refused to let even the slightest crack in her composure show; chin up, shoulders squared, she strode into the elevator and made her way upstairs.

When she entered her office, her assistant, struggling to mask her shock and a tangle of other emotions, quickly approached. “President Fielding, your schedule this morning: at ten, you have the city’s science and technology planning meeting.”

“Thank you,” Sylvie replied.

She rubbed at her brow. No matter what had happened, work still had to go on.

After gathering her things, she left the office early to head to the meeting.

But the moment she saw Elodie and Alexander already seated at the venue, Sylvie couldn’t quite keep her expression in check.

It wasn’t unusual for major corporations to gather for these government initiatives. But this this was different.

Not after everything had been turned upside down.

Sylvie sensed, almost immediately, the unfiltered stares trained on her from all directions.

Gone were the respectful, admiring looks of the past. Now, there was something else in their eyes-something sharp, almost predatory. Clearly, news of yesterday’s debacle hadn’t just leaked; it had exploded, and everyone here knew.

The shift in the room felt like invisible needles pricking at her skin.

Still, she kept her face composed and walked in steady heels toward the steps.

Alexander had only learned the full story this morning, courtesy of Esmeralda. It had shocked him, honestly. He turned to Elodie and murmured, “Sylvie’s nerves are something else. I definitely underestimated her. Even with her reputation in shambles, she can still walk in here like nothing happened.”

He couldn’t deny a flicker of satisfaction.

After all, Sylvie had once paraded around as Mrs. Silverstein, basking in the limelight at every event. Now? Things weren’t so smooth for her anymore.

Elodie, for her part, mostly felt disgusted by the whole situation.

From the moment she’d arrived, people had been swarming her, greeting her warmly, addressing her as “Mrs. Silverstein”-opportunists, every one of them.

Inside the hall, the organizers were arranging the seating. Elodie followed protocol, looking for her and Alexander’s names.

Across the room, Sylvie spotted her own name card.

Right beside hers sat another-Jarrod’s.

The seating had clearly been assigned in advance. No one had bothered to update anything;

probably, the planners were still net

working off her old connection to Jarrod, so they’d placed them together out of habit.

When Sylvie realized she’d be sitting next to Jarrod, she let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. After a night of pent-up frustration, this small mercy brought he a fleeting sense of relief.

She was just about to take her seat when a staff member hurried over, snatching

up her name card. “Sorry, Ms. Fielding, your seat isn’t here. You’re a bit further back.”

Before Sylvie could respond, the staff member had already placed a new name card in the empty space beside Jarrod’s.

It read:

VistaLink Technologies, Elodie.

For a split second, Sylvie’s face went rigid. A hot, unrelenting anger began to burn in her chest.

Elodie and Alexander came over just in time to see it all unfold-and they were just as surprised as anyone.

All eyes in the hall turned their way.

The scene was nothing short of theatrical.

Once, Sylvie had always been the exception-the one who got special treatment.

But Ms. Thorne… she’d always quietly been the real Mrs. Silverstein.

Alexander kept silent, but a knowing smile tugged at his lips.

Now, with Sylvie’s dignity stripped away in front of everyone, the illusion of her old pride shattered like glass.

As the tense silence stretched on, someone behind them suddenly called out, “Mr. Silverstein.”

Elodie turned her head and saw Jarrod approaching, expression unreadable, his gaze falling on the name cards.

Sylvie immediately looked at him, steadying herself, and said softly, “Jarrod, you’re here.”

The whole situation was undeniably awkward so much so that someone in the crowd couldn’t help but whisper, “So, who do you think Mr. Silverstein’s really here to support?”