She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 888

The table plunged into dead silence.

The suppliers exchanged uneasy glances. The man in the gold-rimmed glasses took a slow sip of his wine, trying to mask his discomfort.

Chadwick let out a dry, forced chuckle. "Director Turner, you certainly have a sharp eye. But that's just the market rate right now. If you don't buy it, someone else will. You know Bloomberry isn't the only couture house in Metropia."

Giselle leaned back in her chair, holding his gaze with absolute calm.

"Mr. Dawson, you mentioned earlier that several new brands were eager to work with you. I'm curious—who exactly are they?"

Chadwick bristled. "That's confidential business information. I can't disclose that."

"You can't disclose it, or they don't exist?" Giselle arched an eyebrow. "If you actually had better buyers lined up, you wouldn't have invited us to dinner tonight. You would have just sold the inventory. Why waste your time haggling with us?"

Chadwick's smile completely vanished.

The man in the glasses, Mason Carter, was a major lace importer. He quickly set his glass down, attempting to salvage the mood. "Come on, everyone, we're all businessmen here! Harmony brings wealth. Director Turner, you just got back to the country, so you might not fully grasp the local ecosystem yet. The price is always negotiable. We can talk it out."

He stood up, grabbing a glass of wine, and walked over to Giselle. "Here, Director Turner, let me toast to you. Let's have a drink and smooth this over."

Giselle didn't move a muscle.

Mason stood awkwardly with his arm extended, his friendly facade cracking. "What's wrong? Are you really going to disrespect me like this, Director Turner?"

"Mr. Carter." Giselle finally looked up at him. "Your lace isn't imported from Italy either. The thread density is far too low, and the edges are rough. It'll chafe the clients' skin. If you want to do business with us, fix your quality control first. Then we can talk about having a drink."

Mason's face flushed a violent shade of red. "You! You just got back to Metropia, and you have the audacity to talk to me like that?!"

Chadwick slammed his hand against the table, his voice turning hostile. "We came here out of the goodness of our hearts to give you a deal, and you respond by trashing our product? If that's how it's going to be, then this partnership is over."

He stood up, violently straightening his suit jacket. "Ms. Morgan, let me spell it out for you. We control the premium silk and lace supply chain in this country. If you think our fabric isn't good enough, go find someone else. But let me remind you—those VIP wives are waiting on their custom gowns, and your summer collection is due. You don't have the luxury of time."

Jean gripped her wine glass, her knuckles turning white. "You planned this to corner us."

Giselle stood up, locking eyes with Chadwick. "Are you threatening Bloomberry, Mr. Dawson? Trying to force us to swallow defective materials?"

"It's not a threat. It's friendly advice." Chadwick sneered, leaning in with unapologetic arrogance. "Director Turner, ambition is great, but ambition alone doesn't keep a business alive. You might think you're hot stuff because you've been overseas, but business here runs on connections and knowing your place. With your attitude, you won't survive long in this industry."

Giselle didn't say a word. She just watched him.

Taking her silence as submission, Chadwick stepped closer, the suffocating smell of his heavy cologne rolling off him.

He reached out and patted Giselle's shoulder. "Tell you what, Director Turner. Let's share a few more bottles tonight. If you show me a good time and keep me happy, I'll reconsider the price hike. Deal?"

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