Chapter 6
I sat down.
"I didn't give you a heads-up about yesterday," Edward said, pouring me a cup of coffee and sliding it over. "Are you upset?"
"No," I said.
Edward said, "But you're still not happy."
I paused, then decided to just be honest.
"Grandpa, I don't want to rely on someone else's reputation. I've worked at Holt Group for eight years, and everything I achieved was on my own. After what happened yesterday, everyone will just think I was faking it the whole time."
He pick up the cup and sipped his coffee slowly.
"So what if you were just putting on an act? Does it really matter?" he said.
"It matters to me, Grandpa," I replied.
"Alright then, tell me what's your plan?" Edward asked.
I stared at the share transfer agreement on the table, but didn't reach for it.
"I can't accept this," I said.
He set his cup down.
"Why?" Edward asked.
I said, "When my mom left the Symons family, she cut you off. She never said a word about any of this to me."
Edward went quiet.
After a long pause, he finally said, "When your mom left, I screwed up."
It was the first time I'd ever heard him admit it.
"I didn't like the guy she married. But it was her choice, and I shouldn't have tried to stop her," he said, his voice slow and heavy. "By the time I figured it out, she was already gone."
My fingers tightened.
My mom died when I was nineteen.
Ever since then, I'd been on my own.
He said, "These shares were rightfully hers. I'm not handing them over. They were meant for you, left by her. If you don't take them, she won't rest easy."
I didn't say anything.
"Just leave it for now," he said, pouring me another cup of coffee. "No rush."
As I stepped out of the Symons family estate, my phone lit up again.
This time, it wasn't Celine or Adrian.
It was an unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello, Miss Symons. This is Serena."
Her voice was nothing like last night. She was gentle, polite, and even a little ingratiating.
She said, "I'm really sorry about what happened last night. I was way out of line. I'd love to take you out for dinner and apologize in person. Would that be okay with you?"
I leaned back in my seat.
"No," I said.
"Miss Symons..." she tried to say something.
"Me being a Symons has nothing to do with you. And what you did isn't something a dinner can just fix."
Serena went quiet on the other end.
"And don't bother calling me again." I hung up.
Then I blocked her number.
At two in the afternoon, I headed to the office to sort out the handover.
After eight years at Holt Group, I knew every floor and corner like the back of my hand.
When the elevator doors opened, a few colleagues in the hallway spotted me—their expressions shifted in a heartbeat.
Some of them greeted me with big smiles, their voices ten times warmer than yesterday.
"Ms. Symons, you're here. Need me to grab anything for you?"
"Ms. Symons, you look amazing today."
Just yesterday, they were still calling me "Evelyn."
Now everyone's switched to calling me Ms. Symons.
I walked over with a blank face and knocked on the director of administration's door.
"I've finished the handover checklist. Can you look it over?" I said.
The director of administration took the file, and his demeanor instantly became much more respectful.
"Evelyn, about your resignation... Should I double-check with the boss first? I mean, your situation is pretty unique—"
I said, "There's nothing unique about it. Just stick to the standard procedure. Everything needs to be wrapped up by the end of the month."
He paused, clearly caught off guard.
"Okay, sure," he said.
As I stepped out of the administrative office, on my way back to my desk, I heard the sound of dress shoes clicking down the hallway.
It was Adrian.
He was standing at the CEO's office doorway, his eyes fixed on me.
He was still in that tailored dark gray suit, but his tie was gone. The top button of his shirt was undone, and he looked like he'd been up all night.
"Come in," Adrian said.
I followed him into the office.
The door clicked shut behind us.
He stayed standing.
"Why didn't you tell me about what happened last night?" he asked.
"About what?" I asked.
"Your identity," he said.
"That's got nothing to do with work," I replied.
He stared at me, and there was something in his eyes I just couldn't figure out.
"Eight years," he said. "You've been by my side for eight years, and I never knew you were a Symons."
"Me being a Symons has nothing to do with my job here," I replied.
His jaw clenched.
"You're not going to explain?" he asked.
"Mr. Holt, I'm just here to finish the handover," I said.
He walked over to the window.
He stood with his back to me for a long while.
"I've signed your resignation letter," he said.
"Thanks," I replied.