When My Ex's Worst Enemy Became My Sanctuary novel Chapter 243

“Seriously, those two are perfect for each other. I have no idea who started that rumor about him being gay. So ridiculous.”

“Oh, and their wedding is next week. Do you think we’ll get the day off?”

Bertha had been lingering by the entrance, listening in with a smirk. A perfect match? Please. That’s only because Latham hadn’t met her yet.

Her parents had always told her she was exceptional. It was the only reason she ever felt so confident.

She walked straight to the front desk. “Hi, my cousin is your boss. Can you take me to her office?”

“You mean Dorothea?”

“Yeah.”

The receptionist hesitated, picked up the phone, and tried calling Dorothea, but no one answered. After checking with the assistant, she finally explained, “Sorry, Dorothea’s meeting with some people from the bank right now. I can take you to the reception room to wait. You might be here a while, Bertha.”

Bertha’s patience snapped. “I’m Dorothea’s sister. Why would you make me sit in a reception room?”

She crossed her arms. “Just take me to Dorothea’s office. We were super close as kids, it’s fine.”

The receptionist looked uncomfortable. “I really don’t think that’s appropriate.”

Bertha rolled her eyes. “What’s not appropriate? What’s your name? If Dorothea hears you’re treating me like this, she’ll fire you.”

A colleague nearby nudged the receptionist. “Just let her wait in the office. Stay with her.”

The receptionist gave in. “Alright, Bertha. This way, please.”

Bertha grinned like she’d just won a prize and followed the receptionist in.

Dorothea’s office was as impressive as she remembered. She’d been here a few times before, back when Waiton was in charge.

She didn’t hesitate to plop herself down in Dorothea’s big fancy chair, twirling her fingers through the flowers on the desk.

The receptionist chimed in, “Bertha, please use the sofa.”

Bertha scoffed. “Why would I want to sit there?”

Ignoring her, Bertha pulled out her phone, leaned in next to the bouquet of pink roses, and took a selfie.

She quickly typed out a tweet: These flowers are gorgeous!

The card on the bouquet made it into the shot too, the writing clearly visible.

The receptionist felt uneasy and quickly moved to pick up the flowers. “Bertha, these belong to Dorothea.”

Bertha laughed. “You’re so uptight. You really think I’d steal her flowers?”

She spotted a ring on the desk, and while the receptionist’s back was turned, she quietly slipped it into her palm.

The receptionist, busy moving the flowers, didn’t notice a thing.

“You really should wait for Dorothea outside,” the receptionist said.

Bertha smiled, all fake sweetness. “Whatever, let’s go. Just don’t regret it when Dorothea scolds you later.”

Half an hour later, Dorothea walked Platt to the elevator. Back at her office, she noticed several missed calls just as her assistant came over. “Dorothea, your cousin is here. She’s waiting in the reception room.”

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