At that moment, someone else approached—it was Rosalie.
She had also arrived.
Old Madam Su immediately frowned. "Rosalie, why are you here too?"
Rosalie's expression darkened. "I came to see King."
Su Changrong and Li Lan looked displeased. "Why would you come to see King? You're no longer part of the Su family. Please leave."
Just then, the door of the presidential suite swung open, and a female secretary stepped out. "You must be the Su family, correct? King is ready to see you. Please, come in."
At this point, it was impossible to drive Rosalie away. Old Madam Su shot her a sharp glare, silently warning her not to cause trouble. Then, the group followed the secretary inside.
The luxurious presidential suite was quiet, almost oppressive. The secretary led them into the study. "King is waiting for you inside."
"Thank you," Old Madam Su murmured nervously.
None of them dared to breathe too loudly as they tiptoed into the study. By the floor-to-ceiling French window stood a slender figure, back turned, obscuring her face.
Is that… King?
Old Madam Su, Su Changrong, and Li Lan's hearts raced wildly. "King, hello—it is such an honor to finally meet you. This is a small token of our respect, please accept it."
Rosalie, however, fixed her gaze on that figure. Although the face was hidden, the silhouette… the aura… it all felt painfully familiar.
No… it can't be…
The figure slowly turned.
Rosalie's pupils contracted sharply. Her mind went blank.
It was Celia.
A collective gasp filled the room. Old Madam Su, Su Changrong, and Li Lan stared in shock.
"How… how could it be you?"
Celia's clear eyes swept over them, her lips curving into a faint, confident smile. "Why am I here? Because I am King."
The room fell into stunned silence.
What? Celia is King?
The so-called country girl, the one they mocked and cast aside, was the world-renowned perfumer—the mysterious genius known as King?
It was unthinkable. It was impossible.
"No!" Rosalie suddenly screamed, her voice raw with panic. "Celia, how could you be King? You're nothing but a worthless girl from the countryside. You're lying! You're pretending to be King!"
She turned desperately to the others. "Grandma, Mom, Dad—don't believe her! She's a fraud! She barely made it into T University after repeating two years in high school. She never studied perfumery! How could she possibly be King?"
Her voice cracked, hysteria bubbling over. Rosalie clung to Madam Su's arm, trembling, then lunged toward Celia in blind fury.
But before she could reach her, two bodyguards in black suits appeared like shadows, striking the back of her knees.
With a dull thud, Rosalie collapsed onto the floor, forced to kneel before Celia.
"Miss Rosalie," one of the guards said coldly, "show any more disrespect to King, and we will not be so polite."
Old Madam Su, Su Changrong, and Li Lan froze in place, their faces pale. Their legs felt weak, fear rooting them to the spot.
Still, Rosalie refused to yield. She glared up at Celia, eyes burning with resentment. "Why? Why do you treat me this way? I won't accept it—I'll never accept it!"
Celia stepped forward, her slender figure towering over Rosalie's humiliated form. Her gaze was calm, steady, and merciless.
"Rosalie," she said softly, every word cutting like a blade, "whether you accept it or not doesn't matter. You've already been abandoned. You've lost everything. And now—"
Her red lips curved into a decisive smile.
"You've lost."
The finality in her voice crushed Rosalie's spirit. Tears welled in Rosalie's eyes, blurring her vision. She still couldn't understand—why, after everything, she had lost to this "clown from the countryside."
But no matter how she struggled, reality was undeniable.
Celia was King.
And Rosalie… had lost.