The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 434

“Has Manager Rogers lost his mind or something?”

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Someone finally couldn’t take it anymore and called out to him, “Manager Rogers, how much is this girl paying you? You’re the product manager at CICI Group and you’ve got nothing better to do than help a kid put on an act? This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, Manager Rogers, stop with the show already.”

“Honestly, I’d believe you were the CEO of CICI Group before I’d believe she was.”

Manager Rogers glanced at the group, his voice turning cold. “Enough. I’m not putting on a show and I’m not lying. She is the CEO of CICI Group.”

“Manager Rogers, are you addicted to this roleplay or what?”

“You think we’re idiots? She’s what, eighteen? Still wet behind the ears and probably only knows how to spend money, not make it. If she’s really the CEO, I’ll jump off the thirty-eighth floor right here and now.”

Raymond and Hilda, who could barely stand anyone saying a bad word about Citrine, were about to explode. But before they could, Manager Rogers beat them to it.

“You there—what do I even call you, ‘boss’? Did you drink away your brain cells or something? I work at CICI Group. If I didn’t even know what our CEO looks like, I’d have no business working there—I might as well go screw bolts on an assembly line.” His tone was icy, and the scorn in his eyes was unmistakable as he glanced at the man’s beer belly.

He didn’t stop there. “And what’s wrong with being eighteen? At least she’s young—unlike the rest of you old fossils who are halfway in the grave already. Our CEO’s got more life ahead of her than you lot ever will.”

To Rogers, his CEO was practically a legend—brilliant, compassionate, and fiercely capable. She’d given him a chance when he was at rock bottom; if not for her, he would probably still be scraping by in some back alley, eating cold takeout for dinner.

The man with the beer belly, red-faced and clutching his stomach, sputtered, “You—you’re insulting me!”

Talbot’s face went ashen, disbelief etched across his features.

No way. How could she possibly be the CEO of CICI Group?

Refusing to give in, Talbot pressed on. “That proves nothing! For all we know, you stole it!”

Citrine just laughed. Then, with a practiced motion, she pulled the company’s business license from her bag, holding it up for everyone to see as she pointed to her own name printed on it. “Still have doubts?”

A seal could be faked, but the name on the business license couldn’t be forged.

Talbot’s bravado finally collapsed. Remembering how he’d praised the CEO of CICI Group in front of everyone—and even called her ‘mentor’—he suddenly wished the ground would swallow him whole.