CHAPTER 3: CHAPTER 3: PEOPLE FROM TWO WORLDS

Taking a taxi home, Poppy Hale tiptoed to wash up, and then went to the small room to check on Mrs. Hale and the soundly sleeping Florence Lynch.

Mrs. Hale frowned and whispered, "Why are you back so late? Are you hungry? I’ll make you some noodles."

Saying this, she was about to get up.

Poppy Hale quickly pressed her down to stop her, "I’ve already eaten, go to sleep."

Only then did Mrs. Hale go back to sleep.

To avoid disturbing Poppy Hale’s work, Mrs. Hale usually slept with Florence Lynch, not in the same room as Poppy Hale.

After the Hale Family went bankrupt, Poppy Hale rented a rundown old place with her mother and daughter, a bit far from the company.

Poppy Hale went to the kitchen, made herself a cup of instant noodles, without turning on the light, and looked at the messages on her phone.

The entire company forum, without exception, was all about Declan Hawthorne.

Poppy Hale’s phone was also completely taken over by Declan Hawthorne.

He was the kind of leader who parachuted in and looked so handsome.

The forum was filled with pictures of Declan Hawthorne taken by colleagues.

A lot of Declan Hawthorne’s background was dug up, but it was all gilded.

It was just that Poppy Hale saw that one line.

During university, worked to pay for his studies, and after graduation, founded Newgate Financial without any family support, becoming the youngest on the Asian millionaire list, the only publicly acknowledged heir of the Hawthorne Group...

Worked to pay for his studies?

So all those years she thought Declan Hawthorne was a poor boy, and was always cautious about maintaining his dignity, spending money on him carefully, afraid he’d be sensitive and distressed.

It turned out it was just a young master’s joke.

Poppy Hale remembered hearing Declan Hawthorne say back then, "I never considered Poppy Hale important."

Indeed.

In the past, they were people from two different worlds.

He was dignified and noble, academically accomplished, the highest scorer admitted to Arvum University that year, studying in its top program.

She was carefree and vulgar, disinterested in studying, and barely got into the school because Arvum University had expanded its admissions, being the lowest scoring art student.

It would be the same in the future.

Even if they worked in the same company, as superior and subordinate, Declan Hawthorne was still a figure out of reach, like a mountain peak she couldn’t touch as a small employee.

Her heart felt as if it had been gripped tightly, a dull pain surged, and the steam from the instant noodles rose, shrouding her emotions in mist.

Poppy Hale exited the forum and ate the noodles heartily.

-

The next day, Morgan Sloan announced about the overtime pay in the internal company group.

Since the restriction was after midnight, it didn’t affect many colleagues, as not many would work past midnight.

Poppy Hale didn’t look well.

Colleague Amber Yates looked over, whispering, "Poppy, doesn’t that mean you’ll earn a lot less money?"

Amber was one of the few who knew about Poppy Hale’s financial situation.

Initially, she also thought Poppy Hale was young and working so hard to get ahead deliberately, which made her not really like her.

Later, she realized that Poppy Hale’s monthly earnings had to cover medication for two patients, rent, family expenses, and debts, leaving her with almost nothing.

Overtime pay from late nights added up to a significant amount.

If she wasn’t allowed to work overtime in the future, Poppy Hale would lose part of her income.

Amber Yates nudged Poppy Hale, "Why don’t you talk to President Hawthorne? Explain your difficulties, he might agree to let you finish this month’s overtime first?"

Go to Declan Hawthorne?

What could she say?

Say that she’s now in such a dire state that she’s struggling for a few thousand in overtime pay, and asking for him to cut her some slack?

Even if Declan Hawthorne could bear listening, she herself didn’t have the face to say it.

Poppy Hale sighed, "It’s okay, I’ll find some part-time work. At least I can go home earlier and spend time with my daughter."

Speaking of Poppy Hale’s daughter, Amber Yates got interested, "My baby has some clothes that don’t fit anymore, for your Florence? Don’t mind, they’ve only been worn once."

In the past, the Eldest Miss Hale wouldn’t have ever taken clothes worn by someone else.

But now it’s different; the clothes she herself wore were bought before the Hale Family went bankrupt, and she couldn’t afford new ones anymore.

Poppy Hale laughed, "Sure, kids’ clothes are better after being worn, soft and clean. Thanks, Amber."

Amber Yates’ family background was quite good, she drove a Porsche to work; when she said clothes worn once, they were basically brand new from big brands.

Taking them for Florence, washing them once and then wearing them, Poppy Hale felt was quite good.

Amber Yates saw her accepting so openly and also breathed a sigh of relief.

She was worried Poppy Hale would look down upon them, but wanted to help her out. Buying new ones might offend her, and make Poppy feel obligated to return the favor, so offering some unworn clothes that became too small was just perfect.

After all, they were in the same company.

Poppy Hale didn’t want to run into Declan Hawthorne, but couldn’t avoid it.

Having had too little sleep last night, Poppy Hale went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, and as she looked up, she saw a man with an intimidating presence standing inside.

The kitchen wasn’t small, but Declan Hawthorne was tall with muscles all over, exuding a tense and suffocating pressure.

Backing out now wouldn’t be appropriate, so Poppy Hale braced herself, lowered her eyes and said, "Good morning, President Hawthorne."

"Mm."

Declan Hawthorne’s gaze lightly swept over Poppy Hale, with no intention of speaking.

And no intention of leaving.

Poppy Hale brewed herself a cup of coffee, added ice, and prepared to leave the kitchen.

Declan Hawthorne coldly spoke, "Have you finished revising the proposal?"

Poppy Hale’s fingers tightened around the cup and upon hearing this, she took a step back, "Yes, I’ll send it to you later."

The atmosphere was as if Declan Hawthorne was a fierce beast.

Declan Hawthorne’s voice was cold, "No need, just send it by email."

"I don’t want to have too much interaction with you."

His voice was as cold as ice.

He leaned back slightly, his long legs casually stretched out, hands in his pockets, exhibiting a certain lazy elegance.

Poppy Hale stared at his trouser leg and shoe upper, then looked slightly upwards, seeing the tailored suit pants and five-figure priced metal belt, making Declan Hawthorne appear even more distinguished.

Even though the Hale Family went bankrupt, Poppy Hale could tell at a glance that Declan Hawthorne’s attire added up to six figures.

Perhaps it was his gesture, causing Poppy Hale’s gaze to unconsciously land in the area below Declan Hawthorne’s suit pants belt...

Impossible to ignore.

A single glance made her cheeks flush, quickly retracting her gaze.

Back when they were dating, they indeed experienced wild moments, taking advantage of youth and lack of restraint, they tried all kinds of things; having Florence was an unexpected outcome.

But since she’s here, she’s a gift from heaven, and she would cherish it.

Looking further up, Poppy Hale noticed the red marks on Declan Hawthorne’s neck.

An adult could instantly tell under what circumstances they were made.

Previously, Declan Hawthorne didn’t like Poppy Hale leaving marks on his neck, saying he didn’t want others to see.

Now, he could walk around the company with such an obvious mark?

Of course.

Someone like Declan Hawthorne surely wouldn’t lack women around him.

Back in school, it was like that, let alone now. He had that shining title of Hawthorne Group’s heir, many excellent women would flock to him.

Poppy Hale sighed inwardly.

Declan Hawthorne didn’t want more interactions with her, and Poppy Hale felt the same.

Suppressing that stifling, painful ache, Poppy Hale let out a crisp laugh, "I think so too."

"Besides work, there’s no need for us to have any interactions."