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Chapter 922

Chapter 925

Burning Passion: Love Never Die

“Remember, our endgame is to oust her from the company,” Rosie’s voice asserted, a touch of

deliberation in her tone.

Emerie hesitated, her voice edged with caution.

“But she’s the president’s wife, and her connections run deep. I’m a bit wary of ruffling her husband’s

feathers.”

“What difference does it make that she carries the title of the president’s wife? Let’s contrive a strategy

to divest her of that role. How does that strike you?”

Rosie proposed, the gears of her contemplation having spun for a while now.

The title president’s wife was a mantle that both vexed and scared her.

If only she could rupture the bond between Millie and Marcus, everything would fall into place

seamlessly.

Emerie’s incredulity soared. Was Rosie delving into the realm of madness?

“Rosie, are you suggesting…?”

Rosie cut in, determination lacing her words, “Men are driven by primal urges; women, by intuition and

skepticism. No matter how strong a rapport seems, if the foundation of matrimony cracks, so will the

entire edifice.

Especially for someone as arrogant as Millie, infidelity is an inconceivable breach.”

Emerie’s gut churned; she had a premonition of where Rosie’s scheme was headed.

“But the president is renowned for his indifference to dalliances. In the company all women’s eyes are

on him, but he never gives them a glimpse,”

Emerie retorted.

Rosie’s gaze held unshakable certainty. “Believe me, there’s no man impervious to the allure of

women.” Confidence emboldened her declaration.

“Are you implying you’ll personally entice Mr. Thomas?”

Emerie’s gaze skimmed over Rosie’s figure—a woman who put effort into preserving her appearance,

but she couldn’t compare those younger ones in their twenties.

A sidelong glance met Emerie’s inquiry, and Rosie’s swift response was,

“Certainly not me. I’ll be meticulous in my selection—a young woman, thoughtfully chosen.”

With a nod, Emerie processed this plan. Just as she was about to leave, curiosity brimming, she

paused to inquire, “Rosie, was it you who leaked Millie and Mr. Bruce’s photos online yesterday?”

A confession followed, “Yes, indeed. But it yielded no results. Millie disembarked from the president’s

car today, smiling. It seems our little exposé didn’t put a dent in their relationship.”

Emerie’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth in disbelief. Rosie’s audacity bordered on

recklessness. The Thomas Group’s Internet Department was teeming with adept minds; even

anonymous posts wouldn’t evade detection.

Sensing Emerie’s astonishment, Rosie clarified, her tone tinged with assurance.

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