My Child and I Married a Billionaire novel Chapter 260

Chapter 260: Chapter 260: You’re Still Too Green

Gwen Morgan transferred 100,000 yuan to President Miller’s Alipay account before messaging him back.

"President Miller, I know you’re a smart man. It must be tough dealing with that ’green tea bitch’ every day. This little bit of money is for your trouble. Take it for now."

"Moving forward, if you do as I say, not only will there be another million yuan for your trouble, but we can also make that green tea bitch disappear from the face of the earth for good. Are you willing to work with me?"

President Miller stared at the sudden 100,000-yuan deposit in his Alipay and Gwen Morgan’s message, taking a moment to process what it all meant.

This sudden windfall and juicy gossip startled him, but he quickly accepted it all with composure.

’If I agree to work with Miss Morgan, not only will I get a fortune dropped in my lap, but I’ll also get rid of this little green tea bitch and take all the credit for the project. More importantly, I’ll be tied to Miss Morgan from now on, for better or worse.’

’What does this mean? It means my connections will jump to a whole new level.’

’Out here in the middle of nowhere, how hard could it be to deal with one little green tea bitch? If I don’t seize this opportunity now, when will I get another chance?’

Soon, President Miller and Gwen Morgan had worked out a plan. After lunch, he started faking an illness.

"I accidentally threw out my back while working this morning. It hurts a lot, so I don’t think I’ll be able to participate in the work for a while. Sorry, President Linden."

Cecelia thought he had actually hurt his back and compassionately told him to go rest.

"It’s alright. The work hasn’t officially started anyway. Just focus on getting some rest."

For a few days, everyone brought him food and drinks. When all the prep work was done and construction officially began, Miller still couldn’t get up.

"I’m getting old, my body just isn’t what it used to be. My bones are so brittle, one little knock and I’m useless like this. Sigh, I’m so sorry, everyone."

Cecelia hadn’t thought much of his sprain at first, but seeing him laid up for so many days with no improvement, she started to worry.

"Could it be a fracture? Just lying here like this with no signs of getting better isn’t a solution. If it’s really bad, you should go to the hospital. I can submit a request to the company to have you transferred back."

Hearing this, Miller panicked and quickly began to pour out his troubles to her.

"President Linden, I’m already forty-one this year. They say it’s not easy for a man in his middle years. I’ve got parents to support and kids to feed. If I pull out now before I’ve achieved anything... and with the end of the year approaching, I’d be too ashamed to face the leadership back home. You’re still young, you only have to worry about yourself, so you can’t understand my struggle. But I’m begging you, please try to understand."

As he spoke, he even began to shed pitiful tears.

Cecelia saw this man, well into his years, unable to even move from his straw pallet and constantly worried about being replaced. She felt that he truly had it rough.

"I only said that so you could go back and recover without any worries. I didn’t mean anything else by it. Since you’re so concerned, then you don’t have to go back. It’s okay, President Miller. No matter what, you’re a part of this project. I won’t abandon you, and I certainly won’t say anything bad about you to anyone else. Don’t worry."

President Miller pretended to agree with immense gratitude.

The moment Cecelia left, he let out a cold sneer.

’Trying to fight me? You’re still too naive. Of course I’m going to lie here and rest up. I’ll wait until you’ve done all the work, and then I’ll kick you to the curb. I’m not going to let you die that easily.’

The President’s Office, Vaughn Group.

Ryan looked at the project progress updates and on-site photos that occasionally popped up in the group chat, his heart filled with sympathy for Cecelia.

He looked at his female colleagues around him. In the cold of winter, they wore warm, comfortable wool sweaters and exquisite makeup, sitting idly and securely in the office, just needing to tap on a keyboard and sip their coffee.

Then he’d look at the photos of Cecelia. On windswept Windmount, she wore a bulky, padded jacket just like the men, her face wrapped in a scarf with only her dusty-looking eyes showing.

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