After the coffee shop incident at noon, first the venue demanded a price increase, then the regulatory authorities suddenly intervened, and now Susan had come to the company building. No one would believe that all of this had nothing to do with Wang Xiong.
Xia Ling straightened her suit collar and said into the phone, "Have her come up."
Shortly after, a strong scent of perfume accompanied by the sound of high heels approached. Susan, in 12cm red-soled heels, her long, straight legs outlined in black stockings, and her daringly tailored black slit skirt swayed gracefully with her steps, exuding an aura of power like a cheetah.
Her long, golden-brown wavy hair cascaded down like silk, her makeup a blend of elegance and wildness—eyeliner like sharp blades, her bright red lips full of meaning, as if a simple touch could make her opponent back down.
"Long time no see, darling."
Susan, a meaningful smile playing on her lips, walked straight to the guest sofa and elegantly sat down. Her long, beautiful legs, clad in black stockings, were faintly visible through the slit, and she calmly crossed one leg gracefully over the other.
Xia Ling glanced at her indifferently. "What brings you here?"
"Oh dear, why so formal?" Susan said with a charming laugh. "We've been best friends since childhood." She paused, her eyes suddenly sharpening. "However, there are some things I'm only just learning."
Xia Ling's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
"The name Zhang Ming should be familiar to you, shouldn't it?" Susan elegantly took a cigarette from her handbag, lit it, and took a deep drag. "That fire fifteen years ago...it's truly unforgettable."
The air in the office seemed to freeze instantly. Xia Ling felt her heart skip a beat, but she maintained her elegant demeanor, her mind racing, quickly devising a plan.
"What are you trying to say?" Xia Ling's voice remained calm.
"Don't be nervous, darling." Susan stood up, pacing around the office in her high heels. "I just feel that, as your best friend of many years, shouldn't you share some things with me? Like…" She suddenly turned, her sharp eyeliner meeting Xia Ling's phoenix eyes directly, "Like how you transformed a small factory on the verge of bankruptcy into a well-known domestic fashion group?"
Xia Ling looked at her coldly: "If you're here to pry into business secrets, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."
"Oh, come on! My dear Xia Ling!" Susan laughed disdainfully, "The Yongxing Garment Factory's warehouse caught fire, Zhang Ming was burned to death inside, and not long after, you converted Chenguang Garment Factory into…" "Lingya Garment Factory..." She slowly walked up to Xia Ling. "These coincidences, can they really just be coincidences?"
Xia Ling stood up, her beautiful feet in gray stockings and 10cm black patent leather high heels exuding a powerful aura: "What exactly do you want to say?"
"It's simple." Susan returned to the sofa and elegantly stubbed out her cigarette. "First, postpone your new product launch, let our Hera Group's new products hit the market first; second, you must close the two Lingya directly-operated stores in the East District business district. That's Hera's traditional territory, opening there is blatantly stealing our market share, isn't it?"
"Just based on a few hearsay?" Xia Ling sneered.
"Oh, darling," Susan leaned closer to Xia Ling, "Do you think the media would be interested in this story? A self-made legendary female CEO, actually murdered by arson…"
"Enough!" Xia Ling abruptly interrupted. "You have no evidence."
"Yes, I really don't." Susan smiled smugly, "But do rumors need evidence?"
Xia Ling was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Wang Xiong told you?"
Susan paused, then resumed her arrogant expression: "That's not important, what's important is…"
"What's important," Xia Ling interrupted, a hint of sarcasm in her voice, "that you actually believe that underage thug? Susan, when did you become so naive?"
Susan's expression wavered slightly: "What do you mean?"
"If there really was evidence," Xia Ling slowly walked to the French windows, "would Wang Xiong hand it over to an outsider like you?"
A brief silence fell over the office.
"Now, please leave," Mom said gracefully, gesturing for her to leave. "If you still want to preserve the last shred of dignity for our sisterly bond…"
Susan trembled with anger, her 12cm heels wobbling unsteadily on the carpet. She glared at Xia Ling, turning to leave with a harsh remark: "This isn't over!"
The sound of her heels faded into the distance, until the elevator dinged away completely.
Mom's delicate face instantly crumbled. She trembled, gripping the desk, her beautiful legs in grey stockings beneath her trousers going weak. Her previous assertiveness vanished.
For years, Mom had believed that secret had been buried forever with the deaths of Zhang Ming and her father.
To atone for her sins, she had silently done so much: anonymously sending substantial sums of money to Zhang Ming's parents every year, sponsoring over twenty children in mountainous areas, attending various charity galas, and even establishing a foundation specifically to help families affected by the tragedy.
She tried to calm her inner turmoil with these acts of kindness, but fate played a cruel joke on her—Wang Datao had kept this evidence for over a decade and now handed it over to his son, Wang Xiong.
Thinking of Wang Xiong's ugly, disgusting face, Xia Ling couldn't help but shudder.
Yesterday's encounter in the underground parking lot was like a nightmare; he and his two henchmen had brazenly violated her stockinged legs, even ejaculating into her high heels…
The thought of walking in stockinged high heels stained with semen made her stomach churn.
She slowly walked to the French windows, her 10cm black patent leather heels moving silently on the soft carpet. Through the glass, she saw Susan walking briskly towards her car in her stilettos, her angry yet somewhat disheveled appearance offering a brief moment of comfort.
But this comfort was fleeting, replaced by a tidal wave of worry. Gazing at the city skyline outside the window, she felt an unprecedented weariness and helplessness.
Should she talk to Wang Xiong? But the thought was barely formed when she shook her head—negotiating with this scum was like asking a tiger for its skin. Once compromise began, it would never end. That hoodlum's appetite would only grow...
Just then, her phone on the desk vibrated. She walked back to her desk, picked it up, and her slender fingers trembled slightly.
"Sister Xia, did Susan come to see you? How did your talk go?"
Xia Ling took a deep breath and calmly typed a reply: "Are you really planning to fight to the death with me?"
Wang Xiong immediately replied: "What do you mean, fight to the death, Sister Xia? It was just a friendly reminder. Besides, Susan has no evidence. What trouble can she cause? How about... I come to your office after school, and we talk face-to-face?"
Wang Xiong's blatant threat almost made Xia Ling faint; she could only barely stand by holding onto the desk. She slumped weakly into her leather office chair, her gray-stockinged legs unconsciously pressed together beneath her trousers, as if only then could she find a sense of security.
Although Susan's accusations today were baseless, if she didn't cooperate with Wang Xiong, next time it might not be so simple… After all, there were far too many people in this society who wanted to bring her down.
Then, not only would the company she had built up over the years be destroyed overnight, but her life, and even her only son…
At this point, Mom could no longer maintain her elegant CEO demeanor. A single, glistening tear slid from the edge of her carefully drawn eyeliner, leaving a small stain on her expensive silk blouse.
Mom's fingers trembled as she slowly typed a single word on her phone: "Okay."
After sending the message, Mom seemed to have exhausted all her strength, collapsing back into her chair.
Just then, her phone vibrated again. Wang Xiong's reply sent another wave of nausea through Xia Ling: "That's right, Sister Xia. Remember to change into a short skirt, and the stockings have to be flesh-colored. I love seeing a lady like you kneeling on the ground begging me..."
Xia Ling bit her red lips, tears silently streaming down her face.
From that moment on, she knew she was about to fall into an inescapable nightmare, and the protagonist of this nightmare was a delinquent teenager about the same age as her son, whose humanity had long since vanished...