Taking the CEO position at Vision Capital was like walking into a battlefield that had been preset for you. Scrutinizing gazes came from all directions—some curious, some doubtful, but most carried a deeply rooted arrogance targeting my age and gender.

I didn't waste time giving an inaugural speech or organizing team-building activities. On my first day, I vetoed three ongoing investment projects with unclear returns and spent twenty-four hours completing an in-depth analysis report on global new energy market prospects for the next five years.


Early the next morning, this fifty-page report appeared in the inboxes of all core investment managers.

Of course, this caused discontent among the company veterans. A group led by Vice President Frank—all old guards who had built the company with my father—were accustomed to the previous pace and were full of hostility toward me, the "parachuted princess."

"Miss Emily," at the first executive meeting, the nearly sixty-year-old Frank with thinning hair spoke with a forced smile, "We respect your vision, but investments in new energy require enormous capital and come with high risks. Vision Capital has always been known for its stability. Isn't such an aggressive strategy a bit... too rash?"


He deliberately emphasized the word "rash," and a subtle murmur of agreement rippled through the conference room.

I smiled at him without getting angry. "Frank, you're right, stability is our tradition." I opened the projector, and a set of data immediately appeared on the screen. "But this is the return rate curve of our investments in the traditional internet sector over the past five years, which has been declining for three consecutive years. And this is the company I mentioned in my report, 'Photon Matrix' in Silicon Valley, showing their technological breakthroughs and patent applications over the past year. If we don't move now, in less than six months, it will be snatched away by our competitors at a price we cannot afford. Ladies and gentlemen, we are venture capitalists, not a pension fund. Clinging to so-called 'stability' is the greatest risk of all."


My counterattack was well-founded and reasonable, leaving Frank momentarily speechless. Eventually, under my strong insistence, the due diligence and investment plan for Photon Matrix was launched. Half a month later, we successfully invested and acquired a twenty percent stake. Three weeks later, Photon Matrix announced a revolutionary breakthrough in solid-state battery technology, and the company's valuation tripled overnight.

This victory helped me initially establish a foothold in the company. Although the voices of doubt hadn't completely disappeared, at least no one dared to question my judgment to my face anymore.

And just as I was busy conquering these old foxes within the company, an unsolicited document, like a cosmic joke, was delivered to my desk.

It was a financing proposal from a medium-sized enterprise called "Nebula Technology." And the project manager of this company was none other than Jack.

I leaned back in my chair, looking at Jack's confident ID photo on the business proposal, feeling incredibly absurd. He obviously didn't know who the new CEO of Vision Capital was and was still dreaming about turning his situation around with this funding. He wanted to get money from me that would save his career.

My assistant knocked and entered: "Ms. Emily, regarding the Nebula Tech case, Frank's team has done a preliminary assessment and suggests we should make contact. Here's their evaluation report."

I took the report and glanced at it. Frank's team had given the opinion "technology has potential highlights, recommend investment." I let out a cold laugh and threw both the report and the proposal into my drawer.

"Tell Frank I'll be handling this case personally."

That entire afternoon, I locked myself in my office, dissecting the proposal written by Jack's team word by word, sentence by sentence, like performing an autopsy. I knew Jack too well; his character—ambitious yet impractical, fond of style over substance, and eager to take shortcuts—was practically imprinted in every word of this document.

The next day was the investment decision meeting. All of the company's executives, including Liam, who served as our permanent legal counsel, were in attendance.

Frank began by introducing the Nebula Technology project, his words full of praise. Clearly, he was eager to push this investment through to prove that his experience was more reliable than the aggressive strategy of this "upstart" like me.

"...Therefore, I recommend that we invest fifteen million dollars in exchange for ten percent of their shares," Frank concluded his presentation, giving me a smug glance.

Everyone in the meeting room focused their attention on me, waiting for my final decision.

Without speaking, I simply pressed the projector remote. The screen displayed page 27 of the proposal.

"Frank, look here," my voice was cold and calm. "The proposal mentions that their core technology, a new AI recommendation algorithm, can increase click-through conversion rates by thirty percent compared to existing market technologies. This data looks very tempting, doesn't it?"

Frank nodded: "Yes, that's their biggest selling point."

"Well then," I switched to the next page, which was a screenshot filled with dense code, "can anyone tell me what this program, disguised as comment code and extracted from their backend, is designed to do?"

The conference room fell silent. The head of the technical department stared at the screen for a while, then his expression suddenly changed: "This is... this is a traffic bot script! They're inflating their numbers with fake traffic!"

I nodded approvingly and continued to the next slide. "Next, page 42, their financial projections. They forecast that after securing funding, their revenue will grow by five hundred percent in the third quarter. This growth depends on signing three major clients. But yesterday I had my assistant check, and among these three companies, one declared bankruptcy last month, and the other two are partnering with companies under our archrival Boulder Capital. Do you think they have any chance of getting those orders?"

Finally, I switched the screen back to the cover of the business plan, freezing on Jack's smug smiling face.

"A business plan built on falsified data, fake projections, and lies," I said, scanning the room before finally resting my gaze on Frank's ashen face. "My conclusion is that this company's business model, just like its founder, is exaggerated, short-sighted, and completely lacking in integrity. Vision Capital will not invest a single penny in such an enterprise."

The meeting room was dead silent, with only my cold voice echoing. Those veterans who once questioned me had now lowered their heads, their eyes filled with awe and conviction.

After the meeting ended, people filed out one by one, with only Liam staying behind. He leaned against the door, without his usual lawyer's seriousness, a hint of a playful smile at the corner of his mouth.

In the empty meeting room, only the two of us remained.

He slowly walked to my side, looking at the proposal on the screen that I had torn apart, and half-jokingly said softly: "It seems my job will be much easier now, as you alone can handle all legal risks and business pitfalls."

I turned my head, meeting his deep gaze. There was no sympathy, no pity, only pure and equal appreciation. I couldn't help but smile, the first genuine smile I had in many days.

"That won't do," I said, "I haven't paid a penny of my legal fees yet."