Chapter 555: Chapter 555: Has Justin Battleson Gone Mad?
The warmth of the man’s breath fluttered in her ear, sending a tingling sensation behind Charlotte Thompson’s ears. She bit down hard on her lower lip with her pearly teeth, her gaze intent on Justin Battleson as if she were ready to murder him.
He smirked enigmatically, continuing, "I know that the design process has come to a standstill, so from now on you’ll be working in my office. After all, this design is something I’m planning on fully overseeing."
At his words, Charlotte’s pupils contracted slightly, her voice incredulous.
"Justin Battleson, do you realise what you’re saying?"
He responded with unanswerable certainty, his eyes intent on her.
Charlotte exhaled heavily, holding back her anger and forcing her tone to remain calm.
"I refuse." She closed her eyes, saying, "I’m just an ordinary designer in the company. If I were to accept this ridiculous demand, what would everyone else in the company think?"
As her words died away, she met the man’s mixed emotions.
Justin’s voice was low and hoarse, a ambiguous chuckle escaping his throat.
"Charlotte Thompson, I remember that you were the champion of Ashton’s national design competition in recent years, sweeping all the prizes big and small," he paused slightly, continuing, "the one who was praised by the prince of Ashton himself, do you really think you’re just an ordinary designer?"
He sighed, continuing, "Charlotte, you’ve always been standing higher than anyone else, why do you care so much about other people’s opinions?"
Unlike Sophie Allen before, Charlotte never dragged her feet. You could always see the uninhibited ambition in her cold eyebrows and eyes.
Charlotte lowered her gaze but didn’t say anything.
She understood, so she didn’t care about societal views.
But she did not want her loved ones, those small children not yet five-years-old, to be pushed to the forefront of public opinion.
Seeing her fall silent, Justin knew she was wavering. He decisively picked up his phone from the table and dialed the internal line.
Within a few seconds, the call was answered, Michael Richard’s clear voice coming through.
"Mr. Battleson, is there something you need?"
Justin rubbed his temples, instructing, "Send someone to move Designer Thompson’s desk here."
"Ah?" Michael, on the other end of the line, was confused— "Moving to where?"
At his question, Justin furrowed his eyebrows, tersely saying a few words before hanging up.
Meanwhile, Michael still held the phone, bewildered by the call.
Move Miss Thompson’s desk into Mr. Battleson’s office?
All Michael could feel was confusion and incredulity.
Had he gone mad or had Justin Battleson gone mad?
After about ten seconds, Michael’s foggy brain barely managed to react, and he quickly arranged for people to move the desk from the design department. Like him, the employees who heard they were to move the desk were equally puzzled.
With an exasperated hand to his forehead, Michael said, "Why are you all meddling in Mr. Battleson’s business? Just get going."
With that, a few burly men lifted the desk and made a dash from the design department, garnering many envious and astonished looks along the way.
Michael acted quickly, securing a spacious location in his office and carefully placing the desk down. Then, he turned towards Charlotte, whose face had lost some colour, and addressed her,
"Miss Thompson, your desk has been moved, but all your personal belongings are still in the office. We didn’t feel it was appropriate to move your things without your permission, so you’ll need to collect them yourself."
At his words, Charlotte nodded, saying, "Thank you."