Chapter 2

I prepared two gift boxes ahead of time.

One was a gorgeous, Tiffany-blue box. Inside lay a fresh piece of dog poop, wrapped so exquisitely it looked like a high-end French dessert from Ladurée.

The other was a plain, brown paper bag. Inside was a vintage bottle of Macallan whisky and a limited-edition Montblanc pen.

I placed the Tiffany-blue box in the most conspicuous spot on my desk, wrapping it with the most expensive silk ribbon.

Then, holding my coffee, I casually strolled past Chloe’s desk. I slowly slipped the gorgeous box into the outermost pocket of my briefcase.

"Tonight's dinner with Mr. Vance depends entirely on this baby," I muttered to myself. My voice wasn't too loud, but it was just enough for her to hear.

Once the dinner at the upscale Manhattan restaurant began, I excused myself to the ladies' room. When I returned, I subtly felt my briefcase.

The gorgeous box was still there, but the weight was off.

I stealthily opened it. The dog poop was gone. In its place was a cheap, synthetic silk scarf.

Chloe sat across the table, her lips curving into a smug, victorious smile. Right next to her hand sat the Tiffany-blue box.

She thought she had won.

At the climax of the dinner, Chloe stood up. She held the gorgeous Tiffany-blue box with both hands and presented it to Mr. Vance with a sweet, doll-like smile.

"Mr. Vance, this is a special gift I personally selected for you. I hope you like it."

Mr. Vance smiled, taking the box and slowly opening it under the expectant gaze of everyone at the table.

The moment the lid was lifted, the air in the private dining room froze.

A neat pile of dog poop lay peacefully on the black velvet lining.

Mr. Vance’s face turned instantly as black as charcoal. He slammed the lid shut and threw the box heavily onto the table.

"Chloe Bennett! What is the meaning of this?!"

Chloe’s face drained of all color. Her lips trembled, but no words came out. In sheer panic, she shot a frantic look at me.

I stood up unhurriedly, pulled the plain paper bag from beneath my seat, and presented it to Mr. Vance with both hands.

"Mr. Vance, this is a small token of my appreciation. Just a little something to show my respect."

Mr. Vance took it and opened it. Seeing the vintage Macallan and the limited-edition Montblanc pen, his face finally softened.

"At least Vivian knows how to conduct professional business. Some people... not only lack capability, but their character is downright trash."

Chloe slumped in the corner, her face as pale as a sheet of paper. Her fingernails dug so hard into her palms they drew blood.

*[Hahaha! The green tea bitch got the dog poop!]*

*[Vivian is so much smarter!]*

A faint, cold smile played on my lips.

She probably had no idea that the gorgeous box she "exchanged" from me was a trap I had custom-made just for her.