My Child and I Married a Billionaire novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Isn’t She the Wife?

Editor: Henyee Translations

Cecelia checked into a motel, dropped off her luggage, and took Candy to enroll in a summer daycare program. Once that was done, she planned to spend the evening apartment hunting.

But before that, she had something important to do.

At three o’clock that afternoon, she was scheduled to sign a major contract.

She had spent months cultivating this client. If she successfully closed the deal, she would undoubtedly become the month’s top salesperson. As her manager had promised, she would then be promoted to team leader.

Cecelia had worked in sales for three years, but her performance had always been average. Most of her time and energy had gone into raising Candy, leaving little room to focus on her career.

Now, Candy would be starting kindergarten soon, and they had finally moved out on their own.

It was time to build a better future.

For Candy’s sake, she was determined to secure that promotion.

At exactly two o’clock, Cecelia arrived at Stratton’s office building and checked in at the front desk.

To her surprise, the receptionist informed her that the purchasing manager’s entire afternoon schedule was already booked.

"Someone from your company made an appointment earlier," the receptionist said. "Her name is Vivian Mason. Didn’t you know about that?"

No. She didn’t. But she knew exactly who Vivian was.

Desperate to improve her sales numbers and secure the same team leader position, Vivian had been eyeing this contract for months. Cecelia had always been careful to protect her client information and avoid revealing too much.

Unfortunately, taking half a day off had given Vivian the opportunity she had been waiting for.

Cecelia immediately called the purchasing manager.

No answer.

She called again.

Still nothing.

Then she called Vivian. The call failed instantly. She had been blocked.

A surge of anger shot through her chest. Without hesitation, she headed toward the elevators. But the receptionist stepped in front of her. "I’m sorry, but you can’t go upstairs without an appointment."

At that very moment, Damien’s motorcade pulled up outside the Stratton office building. Across the plaza, Cecelia was being escorted out by two security guards. Unfortunately, one of them shoved her harder than necessary.

Smack!

Cecelia stumbled and fell to the ground. One of her heels flew off. Her laptop slid across the pavement and stopped beside Damien’s car. Her document folder burst open, scattering contracts and paperwork in every direction.

The scene was humiliating. Yet what hurt more than the embarrassment was the frustration.

For this contract, she had made countless trips to Stratton. She had spent months building relationships, maintaining goodwill, and carefully nurturing the account.

And now, at the very last moment, everything had gone wrong.

But there was no time to dwell on anger or disappointment. She wasn’t going to let the contract be stolen from her. She would find a way to turn things around.

Her elbow burned where it had scraped against the pavement, but she pushed herself upright without hesitation. She slipped her shoe back on, gathered her papers, and called her manager while organizing the scattered documents.

Inside the car, Damien watched quietly. His gaze lingered on her calm expression and efficient movements. His brows furrowed slightly. Wasn’t that the woman he had just married this morning? What was she doing here?

So she worked in sales.

What exactly had happened that resulted in her being thrown onto the pavement in front of an office building?

Yet despite the scrape on her arm and the humiliation she’d just endured, she showed almost no emotion. It was as though she had long since grown used to handling problems like this.

To make a good impression on Damien, the president of Stratton, Jordan Hayes had personally come out to welcome him and accompany him on the company tour before the contract signing.

So when Jordan spotted the scene unfolding outside the building, his face immediately paled. He reached for the door handle, intending to rush out.

"Stay where you are."

Damien’s calm voice stopped him.

Jordan froze. Forcing an awkward smile, he said, "I’m terribly sorry you had to see that, Mr. Vaughn. You know how salespeople can be these days. Some of them are incredibly persistent. If you’re not careful, they’ll sneak into the building. The security guards probably didn’t have much choice."

Damien’s eyes remained fixed on Cecelia. "A salesperson?"

"Yes."

"She doesn’t work here?"

"Absolutely not. We don’t even use uniforms like that. Besides—"

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