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Chapter 67 - 66- Mr. Reno
While introducing herself with a bright smile, Monica discreetly observed the so-called legendary businessman. To her surprise, his appearance was unremarkable—plain features, an average build, and no particularly striking aura. She couldn't help but feel a flicker of disappointment.
The stout man, noticing her approaching with the client, had stood up out of courtesy. However, upon hearing her introduction, his expression turned awkward. He glanced back at the man quietly sitting on the sofa before looking at her again and apologetically saying,
"I'm sorry, Monica. This is Mr. Reno. I'm Mr. Reno's assistant, Jagger."
The stout man stepped aside, revealing the figure behind him. Monica's face flushed instantly, as if flames had erupted and seared her cheeks. The heat was almost unbearable. Embarrassment surged through her—she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
Oh no, oh no! She had just humiliated herself beyond measure!
She had mistaken the assistant for the boss and left the actual Reno sitting unnoticed like a subordinate. Damn it! It was entirely this stout man's fault—why did he have to look so much like a stereotypical boss? In her mind, middle-aged men in their forties naturally had to fit the stout businessman image!
Standing there with her head lowered in mortification, Monica twisted her hands nervously, fidgeting with her clothes. Then, she saw a long, fair hand extend toward her. A calm and pleasant male voice spoke softly above her,
"Hello, Monica. I'm Reno."
The simple, polite introduction and the clear, soothing voice felt like a stream of fresh water easing the heat of her embarrassment. The burning sensation on her face lessened slightly. She hurriedly extended her hand to shake his, though her head remained lowered.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Reno. I didn't recognize you earlier..."
Her palm was already damp with nervous sweat. When her hand lightly touched his dry, warm one, it felt as though all the moisture in her own palm had been absorbed by his.
She braced herself for a reprimand, expecting at least a subtle scolding. After all, someone as high-ranking as him wouldn't take kindly to being mistaken for a subordinate.
But instead, he said in a faintly amused tone,
"It's all right! You're not the first to mix us up."
His humorous remark left her momentarily stunned. She cautiously lifted her gaze and met a clean, fair face. His skin was exceptionally pale, almost more delicate than a woman's.
He wasn't particularly tall, standing only about half a head higher than her 168 cm frame, even with her wearing high heels. His build was slender, almost lean, and he wore a white linen shirt that hung loosely on his frame, completely devoid of the stereotypical beer belly associated with middle-aged men.
She couldn't help but marvel inwardly. A man in his forties, yet he appeared as youthful as someone in their early thirties. No wonder she had mistaken him.
He looked more like a university professor than a business mogul consumed by the odor of money. It was hard to believe that this scholarly-looking man was the legendary, mysterious, and extraordinarily capable Mr. Reno.
As she observed him closely, she noticed faint fine lines etched near the corners of his eyes—marks of time that only added to his calm and steady demeanor.
She found herself staring blankly at him, forgetting she still had her hand clasped in his. It wasn't until he gave a light cough and subtly gestured with his eyes toward the foreign client beside her that she snapped out of her daze.
"And this is?" he inquired.
Realizing her oversight, she quickly released his hand, her face turning crimson once more. Stammering, she introduced the client to him.
"This is a client from our company in the UK. He's in China for business this week and has long admired you, Mr. Reno. He specifically requested to meet you today."
Sensing her tension, Mr. Reno smoothly took over the conversation, introducing himself in flawless English. Gradually, he and the client engaged in a natural and easy dialogue.
First, she was surprised, and then came the wave of embarrassment so intense it made her want to disappear. She hadn't expected him to speak English—and so fluently at that. It felt like a heavy blow to her pride as an Oxford graduate.
Later, Albert Wilson entered the room, followed by several other executives, and the dinner began. She sat beside Albert Wilson, while that man sat directly across from her. Every time she looked up, she found herself meeting his gaze.
When their eyes met, he would offer her a polite smile, but she, flustered and awkward, would quickly avert her eyes.
To be honest, as an outstanding woman, she had no shortage of suitors—whether in school or at work. Among them were wealthy heirs of prominent families, as well as highly capable company executives. Yet, none of them ever caught her eye.
She dismissed the wealthy ones as crude and lacking class. The cultured ones, she found unimpressive due to their lack of ambition or wealth. Those who had both money and sophistication? She thought they lacked humor or maturity.
She knew her standards were lofty. Often, she would think: *If I ever meet a man who can command my admiration, I'll marry him without hesitation.*
Unexpectedly, she finally met a man who left her willingly captivated. But he was already married with a family.
In that fleeting moment when their gazes intertwined, she knew her once-proud self had been utterly conquered by this man.
All evening, she was absent-minded, her thoughts entirely consumed by him. She listened as he conversed gracefully with the other executives. His remarks were witty yet incisive, leaving the others repeatedly amazed and impressed.
Albert Wilson had brought her along to learn about financial insights and gain experience from these seasoned executives. Instead, she spent the entire evening studying him. n𝚘𝚟𝚙u𝚋.co𝚖
She learned that he enjoyed playing golf and spent three days a week on the course.
She learned that he had a gentle, virtuous wife and was the father of a well-behaved daughter and a lively son.
She learned that he neither smoked nor drank. While the other executives were downing glasses of liquor, he only had a cup of tea in front of him.
By the end of the evening, she had pieced together every detail about his habits and preferences from their conversations, as meticulously as though compiling a dossier.
After the dinner ended, most of the attendees were slightly tipsy—except for her and that man. He remained sober because he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, and she avoided drinking as the youngest newcomer in the group, whom no one pressured to drink.
Outside the hotel, everyone exchanged their farewells. His car had been waiting at the entrance, and after offering a faint smile and polite goodbyes, he got into the car and swiftly drove off. Throughout the entire process, he didn't glance at her even once. Her heart sank a little.
On the way back, Albert Wilson tapped her on the head and warned her,
"Don't think I haven't noticed what's going on in that head of yours. Just focus on living your own life. With your qualities, you can find plenty of good men—why insist on stirring trouble with that one?"
She pursed her lips in defiance, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. *Is it a crime to love someone?* Even if he had a wife and family, she didn't mind. She was willing to be his mistress for a lifetime if it meant being with him.
She didn't care about titles or status, nor was she after his wealth. It was him—the person himself—who filled her with joy just by existing. Watching him, admiring him, his every action inspired awe and infatuation.
Seeing her stubborn expression, Albert Wilson sighed and threw her one final remark:
"Mr. Reno is a very principled man. He's been successful for years, and everyone knows he's never had any women outside of his marriage. Give up on your foolish thoughts!"
At first, his words discouraged her, but the more she thought about it, the more admirable it seemed. A man with his level of wealth and power was undoubtedly surrounded by temptations, yet he remained so disciplined and self-respecting. This only made her admire him even more.
From that night onward, she couldn't stop thinking about him. Yet he disappeared from her world as if their meeting had been nothing but a fleeting dream.
He had always been low-key and rarely attended banquets or meetings. Rumor had it that he had handed over the company's operations to younger talents under his wing, giving the next generation a chance to grow.
Gradually, she grew disheartened and began pouring her energy into her work. She was brilliant—having skipped grades all her life, entering Oxford University at 17 and graduating at 20 before joining BGIG.
A year later, she had become increasingly adept at her job. Yet her character grew even more aloof. Having encountered a man as perfect as him, no other man around her seemed worthy of a second thought.
