Leanna

"Twenty million dollars annually for four years, come work for Jansen Corp." Without beating around the bush, Luke Jansen gave out a contract.

I stared at it, face mirroring my blank mind.

Twenty million was not even close to what I earned annually.

What is he getting at?

I bravely met his gaze. "Mr. Jansen, I'm a lazy person and don't like stressful things. Even if you triple or quadruple the amount, I won't sell myself . . ."

Luke Jansen leaned back, and rested his hands on the armrest of his leather chair, face expressionless.

". . . But," I continued, "since you value me highly, allow me to propose an alternative."

I gave out a contract prepared by Michael on the way and printed it at the nearest internet café before coming to his office.

Luke Jansen looked at me for a moment, his expression amused as he reached for the piece of paper.

After a short silence, laughter bounced along the room.

Luke Jansen's secretary, Fredrick Lang's face contorted in shock as he watched his cold, indifferent boss laughed so carefree. He then peered at me at the corner of his eyes.

I paid him no mind and said, "I, Leanna Lee, will offer you my opinions and accept to be your consultant for a minimum fee for two years. In turn, you, Mr. Jansen, will offer your knowledge and life's advice for free until I no longer need your services." I smiled, not backing down from his intimidating stare.

"Miss Lee, this offer is one-sided."

"Mr. Jansen, my opinions, and consultations will give you massive profits. What's a measly minimum fee while all you have to do is advise me about life? I won't be gaining any profit from it," I countered.

"You'll gain my wisdom, which is more valuable than money," he recoiled with a grin on his face.

You have to praise this old man. He had a way with words. No less from the great Luke Jansen.

"My offer as it is. Either you accept, or will part ways here, Mr. Jansen." I stared into his amused eyes and glanced at the door, ready to storm out at any moment.

But much to my surprise, he brought out a pen and signed his name on the contract papers.

"My first life's advice to you is to hire a personal stylist and invest in a fashion designer who will tailor your dresses for you." He smirked and handed the contract back to me.

Still stunned by what happened, I stared at his face with a blank expression.

"Remember, the way you dress; the way you'll be treated. You have a pretty face, but you don't know how to match it with clothes. You dress like an employee. You're an investor and a multi-millionaire. It's time you dress like one."

I didn't know how I got out of Luke Jansen's office. Before my mind could process what happened, I was transported in a room at one of Luke Jansen's five-star hotel.

I was in a classic with a touch of modern, elegant one-bedroom unit complete with kitchen, dining, and living area with no room for complaints. A place reserved for VVIPs, no doubt about it.

Got to hand it to that old man, his words and actions are flawless.