Chapter 899
Meanwhile, Gabriela, attempting to follow her mother, was scooped up by Bryan. Her cheeks flushed with the effort to wriggle free.
“Why can’t I go with Mommy?”
“Didn’t you promise to stay with me today?” Bryan teased, holding her gently.
“I want to be with Mommy…” Gabriela squirmed, pushing against Bryan.
Bryan, ever prepared, produced a lollipop from his pocket. Gabriela snatched it up and began to lick it contentedly.
“I take it back; I like staying with Daddy!” she declared.
Eileen had just stepped out of the office. She couldn’t help but chuckle at Gabriela’s vacillating loyalties.
Soon, Raymond gathered a few of the newer secretaries, who approached Eileen with cautious politeness, likely briefed by her.
Eileen pointed towards Conroy’s office and instructed, “Gather some boxes and pack up Conroy’s things. Then take them to the company gate.”
The secretaries exchanged uneasy glances, shocked by Eileen’s instructions. They were hesitant to get involved in the family feud for control of the company, preferring to remain neutral.
Eileen arched an eyebrow, her voice firm. “Are you up to the task?”
One secretary spoke up.
“Miss Curtis, please, this is your family matter. We’re just employees here.”
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Another added, “Maybe there’s something else we can do. This just feels out of line for us.”
Realizing she might be pushing them too hard, Eileen reconsidered and said, “Alright, then just help me find some boxes as soon as you can.”
As she spoke, Eileen rolled up her sleeves and marched into Conroy’s office.
Eileen left the office door open, making her actions visible to anyone passing by. She sifted through the contents of the bookshelf, meticulously distinguishing between company property and Conroy’s personal items, packaging the latter.
Conroy, who had occupied this space for over a decade, had accumulated a vast array of trophies and medals, displaying them as if they were profound achievements—even minor awards from obscure competitions found a place on his shelves. He had turned the office almost into a personal museum. In the adjacent lounge, his wardrobe was stuffed with suits.
Eileen worked up a sweat as she boxed up his belongings, drawing curious glances from many bystanders. One uneasy observer, uncomfortable with the unfolding scene, slipped away to the meeting room.
The large meeting room was filled with senior executives, all in silence. Conroy had said what he needed to say an hour ago, intending to confront Eileen with a display of his entrenched power when Eileen rushed into the meeting room.
However, his plan was interrupted when an out-of-breath employee burst through the door, announcing, “Mr. Finch, your belongings are boxed up. Eileen’s taking them to the gate for you to take them away.”
Conroy stood abruptly, his face a mix of shock and indignation. “What? Didn’t anyone tell her we’re in a meeting here?”
.