Big corporations certainly have deep pockets.
The moment Diana Bell stepped into the lobby of the Knight Group, she couldn't help but sigh in inward admiration. The gilded dome was encrusted with diamonds, glittering like a river of stars. The floor, paved with cool-toned luxury stone, reflected a sterile, mirror-like light that stretched as far as the eye could see. A massive, circular crystal chandelier hung suspended in the center.
The reception desk, a blend of brushed metal and frosted glass, exuded opulence. Standing in such a lavish hall, even the air seemed to carry the scent of wealth.
Employees bustled past Diana, all clad in impeccably tailored business suits, radiating an aura of elite professionalism. She thought back to her previous company and her former boss, Atticus Archer, who had a penchant for showing up to the office in baggy boxers and flip-flops.
When the boss dresses like that, the employees naturally follow suit. The office had been a sea of men in boxers. Compared to the disciplined, professional army of the Knight Group, her old firm looked like a ragtag band of rebels destined for defeat.
After explaining her purpose to the receptionist and having her credentials verified, Diana was swiped through the security gates. The interviews were being held on the 8th floor. William Knight's office, she noted, was on the very top—the 38th floor.
There were ten candidates ahead of Diana, leaving her last in line. She sat and waited, watching the job seekers emerge from the interview room one by one, each looking more dejected and dispirited than the last.
Noticing a coffee machine in the breakroom, Diana grabbed a disposable cup and brewed a fresh cup. The aroma of high-grade beans filled the air. She walked over to a candidate who had just finished and offered it. "Here, have some coffee."
Like a warm gesture in a cold storm, the exhausted candidate thanked her. Diana naturally struck up a conversation: "What kind of questions are they asking?"
"The usual," the candidate replied. "Introduce yourself, what do you want from this job, why do students' grades fail to improve under your tutelage, your educational philosophy, career goals, and whether you're okay with traveling or staying long-term."
"Standard questions," Diana remarked. "You'd get those anywhere."
"The questions aren't the hard part," the candidate sighed. "It's standing out with the answers. Clearly, none of us impressed them. Maybe we just weren't good enough; the interviewers didn't even give us a second look. There are three rounds—I, and the ten before me, all crashed out in the first. Not a single person has made it to the third. Good luck."
Diana thanked them and stepped into the room. She handed a copy of her resume to each of the six interviewers. When they saw her record of being the top performer every single month at her previous company, their eyes lit up.
Dignity is earned through strength, and excellence is the only universal language. Diana passed the first round effortlessly.
The first round was with the Team Lead, the second with the Department Manager, and the third with the Brooks' GM. Guided by HR, Diana moved to the second room.
The Department Manager, Dorian Buck, posed a question: "Miss Bell, your professional capabilities are outstanding. However, I have one doubt. In this age of internet traffic, almost every company conducts live-streamed classes. Why is your experience in this area zero?"
Diana saw no point in lying. "Because my previous boss told me my personal image was too poor. He said if I showed my face on camera, I'd scare the students to death."
Dorian couldn't help but chuckle. "Miss Bell, you must be joking."
He scanned Diana's face and figure—his gaze was appreciative and professional, not predatory. "Miss Bell, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen."
"Thank you," Diana replied smoothly. "And you are the second most handsome man I've seen."
Dorian wanted to ask who the first was, but he kept his focus on the interview. "So, why exactly did your old boss bar you from live-streaming?"
"At the time, I weighed 180 pounds," Diana said, her voice clear and firm. "The boss thought I was ugly. That was his subjective evaluation. But even at my heaviest, I still appreciated myself. I never believed I was ugly."
Dorian's eyes flickered with a spark of genuine interest. "The Brooks' GM, Violet Cole, is in her office. I'll take you to see her."
Yes, Diana cheered internally. Round two cleared.
As Dorian led her toward Violet's office, Diana overheard a conversation from inside.
"Has Lord Knight arrived today?" "No, I heard he's at the Government-Business Union meeting." "He wasn't here yesterday, and he's not here today. When will he be in?" "Brooks' GM, do you miss him that much?" "Nonsense! I have reports to give him." "Tsk tsk, look at you. Your face turns red the moment he's mentioned."
Diana entered and saw Violet Cole sitting behind the desk. She was impeccably made up, with a fit, well-proportioned figure. A beauty by any standard.
"Brooks' GM," Dorian introduced, "this is today's candidate, Miss Bell."
The moment Violet saw Diana, a flash of stunned admiration crossed her eyes, immediately followed by a sharp sense of wariness. Diana sat down, her poise relaxed and confident, showing no signs of intimidation.
Violet's questions were pointed and tricky. "How would you divide five glasses of water among six leaders?"
Diana answered, "If I were in that situation, I wouldn't divide them. I would immediately go and pour a sixth glass. The question itself highlights a lack of preparation. If I am in charge of a project, such a situation would never occur."
Violet pointed to the resume. "For someone so confident, why is your live-streaming business record a zero?"
Dorian spoke up for her. "Brooks' GM, I asked that earlier. It was her previous boss who forbade it; it wasn't a lack of ability on her part."
Violet stared at Diana. "Why would he allow others but not you? There's no smoke without fire. Don't you think you should reflect on your own faults?"
"Flies don't just land on 'cracked eggs'; they land on anything according to their nature," Diana countered. "People say it takes two hands to clap, but a slap to the face still makes a sound regardless of the victim's participation. If I am wrong, I correct myself. If I am not, I will not bow my head, and I certainly won't waste time on self-doubt."
Violet was impressed by her sharp wit, despite her internal guard. "And the reason your boss gave for keeping you off-camera?"
"I weighed 180 pounds then, and he felt my image was unsuitable. However," Diana added, "I weigh 100 pounds now."
Violet was stunned. "Your resume says you were there for three years. You lost 80 pounds in three years?"
"No," Diana corrected. "I lost 80 pounds in one year."
Violet's mouth hung open. To lose 80 pounds in a single year required staggering willpower. She thought of herself—always talking about a diet, yet gaining seven pounds in a week the moment she saw good food. For a fleeting second, she felt a sense of worship for Diana.
Then, the wariness returned, deeper than before.
"That will be all for today," Violet said. "Go home and wait for our call."
Dorian looked surprised. Usually, if someone made it through the first two rounds and met the GM, an offer was made on the spot.
Diana returned home and waited, but no one contacted her.
Since William Knight had taken the morning off, he had a mountain of work to finish and ended up staying overnight at the government building. However, by noon the next day, he returned to the Bell family villa.
Entering the hall, he saw Noah Bell eating lunch alone. "Where is your sister?"
"She said she has no appetite," Noah replied.
"Any idea why?"
"She went for a job interview yesterday. I think she failed."
In the second-floor bedroom, Diana was fast asleep in a pink and white nightgown. Her sleeping face was peaceful and soft. However, her sleeping posture was a bit... reckless. She was sprawled out on her back, one leg straight, the other bent, her gown hiked up in a way that left her quite exposed.
William stepped into the room and looked at her. His gaze caught on a certain view, and he suddenly froze. His breath hitched, and the temperature in the room felt like it had suddenly spiked.