She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 886

"I'm Giselle Turner," she said.

The conference room went dead silent for a second.

Franklin blinked, exchanged a glance with the manager next to him, and let out a scoffing laugh. "Giselle Turner? Who is that?"

"Chief Designer and Executive Director of Bloomberry," Giselle replied, her voice perfectly even. "Do you need to see my ID?"

Franklin's smirk faded, though a trace of arrogance remained. He leaned back in his chair and looked her up and down. "Oh, you're that... designer who's been hiding overseas for years? I thought her name was something else..."

His tone was dripping with undisguised condescension. "Well, if you're standing here, I suppose you've got the credentials. You're just in time. Bloomberry is in a mess right now. For this couture batch, the East Coast division's proposals are clearly the best, but Ms. Morgan refuses to greenlight them."

Giselle stepped up to the table, casually picked up the scattered design drafts, and flipped through them. She immediately frowned. "You call this collection 'Eastern Mystique'? You've crammed in dragons, phoenixes, and heavy crimsons without a single ounce of negative space. Any socialite who wears this is going to look like a walking holiday tablecloth. No woman with even a shred of taste would ever put this on."

Franklin's face darkened instantly. "Excuse me?!"

"And the Northern region's drafts," Giselle said, picking up another folder. "Cute. But your target demographic is women over thirty. You expect these wives to drop millions on a frilly, overly trendy little black dress that looks like it belongs on a teenager? How are they supposed to justify that to their husbands?"

The Northern regional manager opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

Giselle systematically dismantled every design on the table, offering a brutal, accurate critique of each one. "It's no wonder Ms. Morgan didn't approve any of this. Taking this trash to our VIPs for custom fittings will only drag Bloomberry's luxury reputation through the mud."

She turned to Jean. "Where did you find these people? If Loyce saw this, she'd be furious."

Jean massaged her temples. "I had no choice. We've been completely underwater."

The conference room was dead quiet, the managers exchanging furious, uneasy looks. Who did this woman think she was? Did a newly appointed executive director really have the authority to fire them? Where did she get this kind of power?

Franklin shoved his chair back and stood up abruptly. "If you're so full of yourself, then you can handle these clients! I'm done. I'm sick of working overtime to baby these women anyway. I need a vacation."

Giselle didn't flinch. "If you want to resign, email your notice to Ms. Morgan. She'll approve it immediately."

The meeting dissolved into absolute chaos. Franklin stormed out first, followed quickly by the other managers, all accustomed to throwing their weight around. They were entirely convinced that the company couldn't survive without them.

Once the room cleared, Jean stood up and pulled Giselle into a tight hug. "You've completely changed! I almost clapped when you were tearing into them."

"What kind of dinner?"

Jean sighed, organizing the files into a neat stack. "A few of the top textile importers in the city set it up. They claim they want to talk about long-term contracts, but the reality is they know Loyce is hands-off right now. Since she had the baby and stepped back, they want to test the waters and see if they can bully the new management into worse rates."

Giselle frowned. "Worse rates?"

"Exactly." Jean pulled an elegant invitation from her drawer and handed it over. "When Loyce was actively running things, they wouldn't dare pull a stunt like this. But now that they know I'm in charge, they smell blood. I've dodged them for weeks. I can't put it off anymore."

Giselle glanced at the invitation. It was for an exclusive private club at 7:00 PM. She thought for a moment. "Alright. I'll go with you."

Jean looked relieved, then smiled. "Right. You're the Executive Director now. You were going to have to deal with these sharks eventually." She paused, looking a bit concerned. "Just a warning, these guys don't hold back. They can get nasty..."

"It's fine," Giselle said calmly, tucking the invitation into her bag. "I've survived far worse out there."

Jean looked at her, feeling a sudden wave of sympathy. "Does *he* know you're back, by the way?"