Would Maxwell be angry? I’m afraid Maxwell would only be angry with him if he didn’t use his position for personal gain. I really wanted to say that my leave was personally approved by Maxwell, but I couldn’t.
"Eh... Take your time, I’m in a rush."
Nia Mitchell swore to herself; she absolutely wasn’t doing this on purpose, nor was it a provocation. She was genuinely terrified of Evelyn Peary storming in.
Alan Morgan nodded and personally escorted Nia Mitchell into the elevator. After a moment’s thought, he turned back and entered the Secretary Department.
"I hope you all understand your roles and do your jobs properly."
With a cold expression, Alan Morgan said this, then fixed his gaze on Phoebe Walker.
Alan Morgan singled her out so bluntly. He didn’t want to interfere too much, but he felt he had to say something.
"Alan Morgan, what do you mean by that?" Phoebe Walker roared, frowning. Alan Morgan’s favoritism was too blatant.
Ever since she, Phoebe Walker, had joined MC Group, no one had dared to speak to her .
"Phoebe Walker, this is MC Group. If you want to throw a tantrum, please find another place to do it," Alan Morgan stated coldly. Since things were already out in the open, he decided to handle this matter today while Nia was absent.
"What right do you have to say such things?"
HAHA, has this Alan Morgan lost his mind? Was he trying to make her resign with those words? Or was he trying to fire her? He should take a good look at himself! Although he’s a Special Assistant, he’s just an employee. Yet he acts as if he were the boss.
Phoebe Walker hadn’t openly confronted Alan Morgan before because she was somewhat wary of him. But now that he had spoken to this extent, even if she remained wary, she wouldn’t let it bother her.
"I’m just warning you today."
Alan Morgan reached out, picked up the documents from Nia Mitchell’s desk, and placed them on Phoebe Walker’s desk. The meaning was perfectly clear.
"Alan Morgan, how dare you speak to me !"
Phoebe Walker clenched her fists, her anger palpable. In all her years at the company, she never knew this Alan Morgan could be so outrageous.
She ground her teeth, standing there seething with resentment.
He’s bent on protecting that Nia Mitchell, right? Fine, absolutely fine. Let him protect her all he wants. She has plenty of ways to make Nia Mitchell get out on her own.
Thinking this, Phoebe Walker suppressed all her anger.
"Special Assistant Morgan, why would I pick a fight with someone I don’t even know?"
She was Phoebe Walker, superior to everyone else. She possessed a powerful background; she was proud and conceited. Someone like her, indeed, wasn’t the type to go looking for trouble.
Although he, Alan Morgan, was resourceful, highly regarded in the field, and had achieved many spectacular feats alongside Maxwell Peary—through wind and rain, facing bullets and bombs—but in the Office Room, engaging in verbal sparring with a group of women... UMM. COUGH COUGH, forgive him, he just couldn’t do that.
Since Phoebe Walker said she wouldn’t target Nia Mitchell, he’d believe her for now. After all, she was right under their noses; she couldn’t stir up any major trouble.
"Phoebe Walker, you need to understand, some people are ones you can never afford to provoke."
After saying this, Alan Morgan turned and left.
The boss was still in his Office Room, seemingly showing off, waiting for him. If he didn’t get back soon, what would happen if the boss got angry? No, no, he had to hurry back.
He rushed back to his own Office Room and quickly appeared before Maxwell Peary.
Alan Morgan stood panting and bowed before Maxwell Peary, about to explain his delay, but Maxwell Peary didn’t even glance at him.
Maxwell Peary was cradling his phone, a blissful expression on his face.