?Chapter 1215:


    “Unbelievable.” Her voice shook with restraint. “You should wait outside. I’ll get someone to clean this up now.”


    “No need.” Sadie straightened, her voice rough from the coughing, but her eyes were clear and sharp.


    She wiped the corner of her mouth and walked farther inside.


    If even the lower ranks were getting bold, what about the cunning executives?


    ine’sst intervention had kept some of them in check—but not for long.


    Now, Noah had returned. He didn’t remember anything, and his mother’s stance was unclear. Hailey was still out there, ready to cause trouble. The entirepany was brimming with quiet tension.


    It was time they remembered who truly ran Wall Group.


    Sadie’s expression cooled into calm resolve.


    “Tina.”


    “Yes, Sadie?”


    “Set a shareholders’ meeting for two this afternoon.”


    Tina’s face turned serious. She gave a quick nod. “Understood. I’ll get on it right away.”


    Tina understood what this meant. Sadie was done ying defense. She was about to strike back—formally.


    At exactly two o’clock, Sadie pushed open the heavy wooden door of Wall Group’s top-floor conference room.


    Light from the hallway framed her silhouette, casting a long shadow across the polished floor. The room was empty.


    Rows of high-backed leather chairs sat untouched around the long meeting table, basking in the afternoon sun as if mocking her punctuality.


    Sadie remained by the entrance. Her gaze swept across the vacant seats, cool and unreadable.


    The silence felt staged—too precise, too deliberate.


    Still, she stood there, unmoving.


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    Knock. Knock. Knock…


    The sharp knock shattered the stillness in the conference room.


    Tina stepped forward and pulled open the door.


    Outside the door stood several men and women dressed in crisp business attire, each wearing a different expression.


    They were secretaries and assistants representing Wall Group’s key shareholders.


    Some held themselves with quiet arrogance, while others avoided Sadie’s gaze altogether.


    At the front stood a man in gold-rimmed sses—Cedric Miller’s assistant. He offered a polite bow. “Ms. Hudson, our apologies. Mr. Miller has an urgent meeting and won’t be able to attend.”


    Next came a woman with a poised, professional air—Davis Finch’s secretary. “Mr. Finch isn’t feeling well,” she said. “He’s been taken to the hospital and asked me to inform you personally.”


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