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NovelLamp > THE FAKE HEIRESS GUIDE TO LOVE AND POWER > love and power 10

love and power 10

    <b>Chapter </b><b>10 </b>


    A warm look glimmered in Karen’s eyes. “The Mortons raised you well. You’ve had a rough time with us, haven’t you?”


    Alessia shook her head but didn’t mention anything about her life with the Mortons. In truth, the Mortons were either cold or downright crazy; if she’d turned out halfway normal, it was thanks to someone else’s influence entirely.


    By the time they got home, Karen was already bustling in the kitchen, getting lunch ready. Alessia sank into a chair and started replying to her messages.


    “Miss Morton, have you finally finished up your endless paperwork?” The message popped up at ten in the morning–clearly the sender knew her schedule all too well.


    “You mocking me?” Alessia’s fingers flew over the screen. She hit send at eleven–thirty, a good hour and a halfter, but the reply came back instantly.


    “Wouldn’t dare.” Cole Whitley sent a groveling animated sticker.


    Alessia smirked and shot back a yful punch emoji.


    “So, I guess you’re living the good life? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have tossed two suitcases at my ce and then ghosted me.”


    She was used to Cole’s nonsense and responded with a random sticker, not bothering to engage.


    “When are youing by?” he texted again, quick as ever.


    “I’ll find a time in the next couple of days.”


    “How about I get you a new ce?”


    She rolled her eyes and sent an exasperated emoji, ignoring Cole’s sudden burst of insanity. Pushing her phone aside, she wandered into the kitchen, where Karen handed her a piece of roast beef as a little treat. Alessia’s delighted grin earned her an extra slice.


    “Mom, you should open a restaurant. You’d put the five–star chefs out of business.”


    “You sweet talker. Now, go set the table–it’s almost ready.” Karen ruffled her hair, clearly not taking her daughter’sment seriously.


    Alessia just arched an eyebrow and obediently grabbed the tes and silverware.


    Meanwhile, in a sleek downtown office, a young man in a stiff, ill–fitting suit sat at his desk. He twirled a pen absently in one hand, phone in the other, brow furrowed


    15:36


    in thought.


    A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Cole said, barely ncing <b>up</b>, maintaining his pensive pose.


    “Mr. Whitley, here’s thetest bid proposal for your review.*


    “Just leave it on the desk,” he replied, voice a touch deeper now, the awkwardness of adolescence behind him.


    “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading out.” Larkin Yardley, all of twenty–five but with the stoic face of an aging curmudgeon, stood stiffly by the door.


    “Wait.” Cole stopped twirling the pen and crossed his legs, eyeing Larkin.


    “Is there something else, sir?<b>” </b>


    “Tell me how do I get that girl to actually live in the southside house? I gave her that ce for her birthday, and she’s only ever nced at it once. If she doesn’t like it, she could just say so! The westside ce is almost ready too, but why would she want to live somewhere so cramped? None of those apartments are bigger than her old bedroom. She’s been pampered her whole life–why’s she acting like she’s used to roughing it?” Cole grumbled, muttering more to himself than to Larkin.


    Larkin, used to the absurd dilemmas of the wealthy, kept hisposure. “Miss Morton is a very independent and strong–willed person.”


    Cole shot him an exasperated look. “You think I don’t know that? Can’t you give me a solution?”


    “Sorry, that’s a bit outside my job description.”


    Larkin’s <i>tone </i>was calm and professional. Cole clenched his jaw, lips twitching in frustration.


    “Larkin, you’re twenty–five and still single. Maybe it’s time to reflect on your life,” Cole said, putting on his best mock–sage expression.


    “You’re single too, sir.” Larkin folded his hands in front of him, all respectful


    patience.


    “I’m too young to be dating. But you–if you wait any longer, you’ll bete to the party.”


    With that, Larkin fell silent. Cole, satisfied with himself, raised an eyebrow in triumph.


    212


    <b>15.26 </b>


    “All right, I’ll review the proposal this afternoon.”


    “Understood.”


    “Oh, and from now on, call her Miss Morton.”


    “Of course.” Larkin didn’t ask questions that weren’t his business. That was the mark of a true professional–and the best assistant Cole could ask for.


    As Cole set his phone aside and turned to work, Alessia was just setting down the silverware when Brendan walked in the door.


    212
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