As usual, she wore a tailored designer suit that hugged her figure in all the right places, exuding confidence and authority.

“What’s going on here, Ashley?” she asked, her eyes darting between Lilian and the receptionist.

“Ma’am Lind,” the receptionist, Ashley, said, her tone shifting to one of feigned respect, “this woman barged in here rudely and is demanding to see the president without an appointment. I told her it was not possible, and she started yelling.”

Rachael’s expression turned serious as she turned to face Lilian, her eyes sweeping over her from head to toe with an analytical and piercing gaze.

“Why are you looking for Bastian?” Rachael asked,...