"Mrs. Smith, You've Arrived!"

Another meeting? That excuse really never grows old.

Reluctantly, I dialed Fiona's number—she had a key to this place, and if I could also retrieve the key from her, that would be perfect. The phone rang for quite a while before Fiona finally picked up. The background was noisy, as if many people were talking. Her crisp voice came through, "Sis-in-law, what's up?" "I forgot my keys when I left home. Can you bring them to me?"

"I'm out, busy with stuff, don't have the time right now!" Fiona's response was brisk, as she seemed to shout to someone nearby, "Wait a minute..."

"Where are you? I'll come to you to get the keys!" I hurriedly said, seeing an opportunity to reclaim my keys.

Before Fiona could answer, someone on her end spoke, "Miss, please come over and have a look at the position of this cabinet..." The call abruptly ended.

A cabinet? What cabinet?

I was puzzled. Why would she be looking at a cabinet? At home, she was the kind of person who wouldn't lift a finger, the quintessential spoiled daughter who wouldn't bother to pick up a toppled bottle, and now she's checking out cabinets?

I internally criticized her for likely being up to some shenanigans again—never reliable for anything serious, just quick to spend money.

Standing at the door with my arms full of groceries, I leaned against it, feeling defeated.

I was afraid that Angel would wake up and be frightened if she didn't see me, so I made a snap decision. I set the groceries down by the door, turned around, and went downstairs, intending to go to the office to get the keys. It was also a perfect opportunity to see if George was really in a meeting.

I groaned inwardly as I got into the taxi, realizing my appearance. Going to the company dressed like this?

I had left the house in my loungewear, but I had no other choice.

When I arrived at Apex Tower, I stepped out of the taxi and couldn't help but chuckle at my reflection. I regretted not changing clothes before leaving the house; showing up at such a place in loungewear was indeed embarrassing.

Hesitantly, I tried calling George again, hoping he could bring the keys down and save me some embarrassment. But the call went unanswered for a long time, so I had to muster the courage to walk in.

I needed to hurry; if Angel woke up and didn't see me, it would be bad.

As expected, as soon as I entered the lobby, many eyes turned toward me, as if they were looking at a strange creature.

The little fairies here were truly every woman for herself.

I walked briskly to the reception desk, wanting to get upstairs quickly. The visitors were numerous and all registering. I called out twice, but no one paid attention to me.

Patiently waiting for them to finish with the other visitors, I spoke up again, "Excuse me! I'm going to ElevateBuild on the 10th floor to see George!"

This time, I got straight to the point without waiting for them to ask.

"Do you have an appointment?" asked a voice mechanically.

The person asking me was the same junior employee who had told me 'Mr. Smith and his wife had gone out' that day.

I was about to speak when her expression suddenly transformed into a radiant smile, directed not at me but over my shoulder, "Mrs. Smith, you've arrived!"

Those words exploded like thunder in my ears, "Smith... Mrs. Smith?"

I whirled around to look behind me...

When I heard the receptionist obsequiously call out 'Mrs. Smith,' I felt as if struck by thunder, my fury rising to a boiling point. I spun around to confront Monica, this 'Mrs. Smith,' who dared to swagger around under my title, deceiving others with my identity.

My gaze swept coldly behind me, fully expecting to see Monica, but instead, it was Fiona who came into view. She was fashionably dressed, looking radiant and stylish, her ash-blonde hair styled into large, wavy curls that draped over her shoulders. Her ordinarily plain features were now accentuated with makeup, adding a sultry charm to her appearance.

Fiona walked over elegantly, her face adorned with a composed smile. She was about to speak when she saw me turn around, exuding an aura of fierce energy. Her eyes instantly narrowed in shock, clearly not expecting to find me here.

I couldn't help but let out a sardonic laugh. I had to admit, between the two of us, with our current attire and makeup, she did indeed look more the part of 'Mrs. Smith,' while I resembled more of a nanny.

I was speechless, forced to acknowledge the power of appearance; my casual homewear simply couldn't compete with her glamorous brand-name ensemble.

"Allow me to formally introduce her to you—this is the sister of Mr. Smith from ElevateBuild on the 10th floor!"