Before Miss Olson could finish her retort, the male manager came rushing back, his face pale and beaded with sweat. “Miss Morrison, my heartfelt apologies! You absolutely have priority! Please, forgive our terrible oversight!”
The revelation sent a shockwave through the sales team. Khloe’s verified assets were in the hundreds of billions. And her identity? She was the Morrison family’s daughter, recently acknowledged as the sole biological heir.
The female manager’s legs buckled. She collapsed to the floor, stammering, “I-I’m so sorry, Miss Morrison! I didn’t know who you were! Please, don’t take this out on me…”
Miss Olson turned to stone, her eyes wide with horror.
Morrison? From the Morrison family? In this city, a single word from them could make markets rise or fall.
“Please hurry with the paperwork. I don’t have all day,” Khloe said coolly, utterly unmoved by their sudden groveling.
The contract was thrust before her. She signed without a second’s hesitation.
Miss Olson could only stare, her mind reeling. “You’re a Morrison? But… I know everyone in your generation. I’ve never seen you before!”
“This has to be a scam!” she snapped, convincing herself it was the only explanation. She gestured sharply to her bodyguards, who moved to physically remove Khloe from the premises.
But before they could lay a hand on her, a new group of men in dark suits flowed into the lobby, swiftly forming a barrier. At their head walked a man with an air of quiet authority-middle-aged, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his silver-streaked hair complementing the gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.
“Miss Olson, we have met,” he said. “I am Nigel Bartlet, head steward of the Morrison family.”
The name alone sucked the air from the room.
Even Khloe felt a jolt of surprise. Why would someone from the Morrison family suddenly appear here? She wondered.
The sheer gravity of the moment left Khloe momentarily speechless. Miss Olson looked as if she’d been physically struck, staggering back a step.
Trying to salvage a shred of dignity, she stammered, “S-so… she really is a Morrison?”
Miss Olson still refused to believe it. To her knowledge, Niel Morrison’s wife had been infertile-they’d only ever adopted one child. How could a biological daughter appear out of thin air, right after his passing?
Unless… she was a love child?
Nigel’s smile remained impeccably polite, yet his words were a steel gauntlet velveted in courtesy. “Indeed. She is Mr. Niel Morrison’s only biological child. The sole heir to the entire Morrison fortune.”
Having said this, he stepped past Miss Olson, his gaze settling firmly on Khloe.
She felt slightly uneasy under his scrutiny.
Then, with a formality that seemed from another era, he executed a perfect, deep bow.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Young Mistress.”
The moment Nigel spoke, the entourage of men in black suits behind him bowed in unison.
The sheer gravity of the moment left Khloe momentarily stunned.
Miss Olson nearly stumbled backward from the shock. Clutching her handbag tightly, she tried to make a quick exit, but the black-suited men blocked her path.
“Young Mistress,” Nigel said, not even turning his head, a faint, courteous smile on his face as he addressed Khloe, “I understand you’ve had a minor conflict with Miss Olson. Shall we resolve this matter now?”
Miss Olson’s face turned ashen. Remembering her own earlier taunt-that Khloe would have to kneel and beg for forgiveness-she was gripped with horror.
‘If I’m forced to kneel, how could I ever show my face in our social circle again? The humiliation would be unbearable!’
Even knowing the Morrison family’s elevated status among the elite, Khloe had never encountered such a display. After a moment’s pause, she said, “Forget it. I haven’t suffered any real loss.”
“In that case,” Nigel straightened up, his tone polite but firm, “we must still ask Miss Olson to offer you a formal apology. This will allow both our families to save face moving forward.”
Though Nigel was smiling, Miss Olson felt an intense pressure. She swallowed hard, forced to apologize to Khloe in front of everyone.
“I-I’m sorry.”
Only after Miss Olson uttered the apology did the black-suited men clear a path. Burning with shame, she immediately covered her face and fled with her entourage.
After Miss Olson’s departure, Nigel gave a slight signal, and the female sales manager who had been dismissive earlier was promptly led away.
Before Khloe could even process this, Nigel stepped forward again and gestured respectfully towards the entrance. “We will handle the remaining matters here. The car is waiting outside. Please, Young Mistress, allow us to escort you.”
Khloe looked up at Nigel, the initial wariness in her eyes fading into a quiet composure.
She didn’t move immediately. Her voice was steady as she sought final confirmation. “Escort me? To where?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.