My Poor Husband Is A Billionaire

The room was filled with disbelief.

No one could fathom why Janet would refuse the order.

As Janet gracefully poured coffee for her guests, she softly explained, “I have faith in the designers at W Marks Studio. They possess the skill and creativity to craft designs that will undoubtedly please you. While I appreciate your kind gesture to switch designers temporarily to bring me business, it would ultimately hurt the designers at W Marks Studio and create complications for Mr. Wesley.”

Estella, a perceptive woman, instantly understood Janet’s perspective.

Indeed, their actions would have been ill-advised.

It would not only tarnish the reputation of the designers of W Marks Studio but also strain the relationship between Janet and W Marks Studio, potentially fostering animosity between them.

“You’re absolutely right,” Estella conceded, a contrite expression on her face.

“My apologies. Rest assured, I’ll actively seek other opportunities to bring you business in the future.”

The others, too, regained their composure.

They were impressed by Janet’s integrity and candor, assuring her that they would undoubtedly seek her design expertise in the future. Gratitude graced Janet’s smile.

The conversation shifted from design to more casual topics.

inquired about the status of

upon hearing Sean’s name, Estella’s smile was quickly replaced by

mention Sean

fists clenched, Estella fumed, “He is a workaholic!

blame for Sean’s excessive overtime fell squarely on one person: Brandon! Janet

to vent, waving her fists in

squeezing every last drop of time and energy from

to notice the sudden quiet in the room or the frantic winks Janet sent her

“Ahem…”

familiar, embarrassed cough

evident that Estella recognized

the harsh words she had been

“Actually…”

managed an awkward smile and

Brandon—no, I mean, Mr. Larson—is the

“It’s too late now.”

deep, charming voice sounded from

“Are you criticizing me?”