Billionaire's Match

Chapter 77 Trey fell silent. Angela crouched beside his chair, her voice a low, persuasive murmur. "Just give me a few more days. If I can't turn things around, then you can offer Khloe the shares. What's the rush?" As long as she was here, that entitled little gold-digger wasn't getting a single percentage point of Fox Group. Finally, worn down by her insistence, Trey gave a curt nod. He could wait a little longer. Maybe once Khloe realized her little power play wasn't working, she'd come crawling back. But this time, her games had crossed a line. He was genuinely pissed.

That afternoon at Morrison Group, the project hub was buzzing. "The consumer-facing data in this segment is off. Charlotte, take your team and run through the second half again," Khloe directed. "On it." She had just finished part of a deep-dive with her team when her desk phone rang. It was the front desk. A high- priority client was insisting on a meeting with her, and only her. "A client? Which one?" Khloe frowned, scanning her calendar. She had no meetings scheduled. The investment was secured; now her entire focus was on nailing the project plan. "I... I'm not at liberty to say, Ms.

Morrison. Client confidentiality," the receptionist stammered, clearly flustered. The only thing she could convey was the visitor's extreme importance-personally escorted by the C-suite and reportedly the most significant guest Morrison Group had hosted in years. Khloe frowned, initially about to decline. "I'm busy. You can send Ethan instead." A vice president could handle someone important enough to be personally escorted. "They were very specific, ma'am. They only want to see you.

to wait until you're free." After a moment's consideration, she delegated the final data checks to her lead analyst and headed to the guest lounge, curious to see who this mysterious VIP was. The sight that greeted her was not what she expected. Instead of a sharp-suited corporate titan, she found an elderly couple who radiated a quiet, old-money elegance. An elderly gentleman and lady, both probably in their eighties, with hair white but impeccably kept. The gentleman wore a

netted beret perched gracefully on her head. "You must be Khloe," the lady said, rising the moment Khloe entered. She was petite but moved with a sprightly energy, coming forward to take both of Khloe's hands in her own. Khloe was momentarily taken aback, but the woman's smile was so genuinely warm that she didn't pull away. "Yes, I'm Khloe.

conducting a discreet review of Morrison Group's operations.

Group executives quickly stepped forward to facilitate the conversation. The couple's request, it turned out, was simple.