The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 480

Chapter 210: Paid Fantasy

The silence after Cruz’s words stretched uncomfortably across the entire floor.

Even the employees pretending not to pay attention had gone completely still now, their eyes lowered to their desks while listening to every second of the exchange unfolding behind them.

The woman’s face had paled slightly.

But the humiliation burning in her eyes remained.

Cruz had expected her to back down after that.

Most people would have.

Especially after being publicly reduced to nothing more than a paid mistake in front of an entire corporate floor.

But instead-

She laughed softly.

The sound caught several people off guard.

It wasn’t loud.

Wasn’t hysterical.

If anything, it sounded nervous.

Disbelieving.

Her eyes stayed fixed on him.

“You really don’t remember me,” she murmured.

Cruz didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

The woman swallowed once before speaking again, quieter this time.

“That night…” she said carefully, “you said something very different.”

A dangerous shift moved through the atmosphere instantly.

Cruz remained outwardly calm, but internally, every instinct sharpened.

This was getting worse.

Fast.

The woman seemed to realize it too late.

Because now that everyone was paying attention, backing down would only make her look foolish.

And foolish pride was one of the most dangerous things in situations like this.

“You were drunk,” she continued, forcing a small smile. “Your friends had already left the room hours earlier.”

Ashcroft stayed completely still behind Cruz.

But internally-He already knew exactly where this was going.

And he hated it.

The woman’s gaze softened faintly, as if the memory itself had pulled her somewhere else entirely.

“You kept asking me to stay longer,” she said quietly.

A heavy silence dropped across the room.

One of the nearby employees accidentally knocked over a pen.

Cruz’s expression didn’t shift even slightly.

But Monroe subtly turned his face away, covering the lower half of his mouth with his hand as if adjusting his cuff.

Not because he was shocked.

Because he was trying very hard not to laugh at the absolute disaster unfolding in front of them.

Hudson looked ready to develop a migraine.

Meanwhile, the real Ashcroft was mentally debating homicide.

Because this-

This was exactly why he hated women from places like the Velvet Room remembering him afterward.

The woman looked at Cruz again, her confidence slowly returning now that she had everyone’s attention.

“You even said you’d come back for me next time,” she added softly.

That nearly broke Cruz.

He was one sentence away from dragging the real Ashcroft into the nearest elevator shaft.

Instead, he slowly tilted his head.

Then smiled.

Coldly.

“You’re misunderstanding something.” His tone remained flat.

The woman frowned slightly.

Cruz stepped forward once.

“And that misunderstanding,” he continued smoothly, “is believing men like me say those thing

because we mean them.”

The words landed like ice water.

James glanced at the screen once before stepping forward silently and handing the tablet over to

Hudson.

Hudson took it without a word.

His eyes scanned the screen once.

Then again.

A slow swipe of his thumb moved through several pages before he handed the tablet back to

James with the same calm indifference he had worn since arriving on the floor.

But when he finally spoke-

The atmosphere inside R&D tightened instantly.

“Brandy Martinez,” Hudson said evenly. “Twenty-seven years old.”

The woman visibly stiffened.

“Full-time entertainer at Annie’s Fannies. Part-time hostess at the Velvet Room.”

A few nearby employees immediately lowered their heads further.

No one dared make a sound.

The woman’s lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to argue.,

But before another word could leave her mouth, Hudson continued like he was simply reading quarterly statistics.

“Highest educational attainment: Grade twelve.” Another pause. “No corporate backgro

secretarial experience. No administrative training.”

His gaze lifted slowly from the tablet information.

“And certainly no qualifications related to research and development support.”

By now, Bill Franklin was visibly sweating.

Hudson’s eyes finally settled on him.

Calm.

Cold.

Enough to make the older man look like he was seconds away from collapsing.

“Mr. Franklin,” Hudson said smoothly, “would you care to explain what exactly made Ms. Martinez qualified to join Blackwood Enterprises?”

A brief pause followed.

“More specifically,” he continued, his voice somehow becoming even quieter, “what made her qualified to become an administrative assistant within the R&D department?”