Love On Ice: Don’t Leave Me, My Charming Liar

Chapter 416: Both companies had chosen unusual representatives for what should have been a straightforward negotiation. "Oversee the contract signing. Ensure everything proceeds smoothly," Ethan instructed calmly. Lisbeth's eyes widened. "Me? There are specialists for this." "We can't risk complications." "Fine," Lisbeth said resignedly. "If their designs didn't echo Nyla's style, I wouldn't even consider it." Her words plunged the office into silence. Oblivious to the tension, Lisbeth sighed and added, "Such a shame Nyla stopped suddenly. The market is recycling decade-old designs now.

Can't we find better talent?" Ethan's grip tightened on his pen. "You noticed similarities to Nyla's style?" "Yes, but that's beside the point. Can't we find a different partner?" "Where did you see the resemblance?" His eyes darkened. "Take this ring design. The elements, especially these delicate loops-they're quintessentially Nyla. It's as if she created it herself," Lisbeth mused. "But Nyla specialized in fashion. Switching to jewelry design is an entirely different realm. It couldn't be her." She shrugged regretfully, but Ethan's mind was already racing down a different path.

Without waiting for an answer to her suggestion, Lisbeth left the office, silently cursing Ethan. "Arrange a meeting with SKT's designer. We have concepts to discuss." Ethan's tone remained casual, despite the turmoil swirling inside him. Find exclusive updates gαℓησνls․com Jackson nodded, though he suspected it was mere coincidence. Just then, Ethan's phone rang. It was Callie. "Ethan, I need you to pick me up from the hospital." "Nyla! Charlotte's burning up with a fever!" The urgency in Bonnie's voice cut through the phone at four in the afternoon.

After quickly delegating her tasks to her secretary, Nyla rushed to the hospital, her heart pounding with worry. Fortune smiled upon her journey, as the roads remained clear. By the time she arrived, Charlotte lay quietly in bed, transparent IV fluids steadily dripping into her small arm. "What did the doctor say?" Nyla sank into the chair beside Charlotte, her breath catching as she studied her daughter's flushed face. "The doctor attributes it to environmental adjustment and stress.

He believes the separation from you might have taken its toll," Bonnie explained, anxiety etched across her features. Earlier that day, the café had been bustling with activity. Bonnie had settled Charlotte on the corner sofa with a tablet playing cartoons, trusting in the child's usual good behavior. Charlotte had stayed there, absorbed in her shows, declining food when offered. . . .