Sweet Wife So Charming: CEO: Hold Back Your Heart-Chapter 431: Cold Sweat

In the following days, Zayne Sinclair stayed home, not venturing outside despite anyone calling for him.

The folks back home weren’t facing any storms, but Fiona Rhodes and Zayne Sinclair in Vesperia were overwhelmed with complaints.

On a certain sales platform, chaos reigned on the official site managed by Zayne Sinclair, and soon this commotion spilled over onto Weibo.

"It’s the first time I’ve seen a major brand be so deceiving. I wouldn’t care much if it faded after one wash, but I’ve washed it four times now, and it fades every time with severe shrinkage. I bought a large size, and it’s shrunk to a teddy size. How can someone 1.78 meters tall wear this [picture]?"

Under this Weibo post, netizens laughed heartily, with one suggesting the blogger wear it strapless, nearly earning themselves a block from the furious blogger.

"Wow, finally found someone with the same issue, I feel so unfortunate!!!"

"Can you add me to the list? I’m about to cry my eyes out at home. I’ve been waiting for this so long, I even planned to wear it out with my girlfriends. Do I have to go out naked now? Boohoo."

"Enough, ladies, I’ve already lodged a complaint."

"We already did it. Haven’t you seen their official site’s comment section exploding with negative reviews?"

"Indeed, first time in my life I’ve seen such a thing."

"Is it true? I need to take a screenshot."

"Well, I just opened mine, and after seeing everyone’s comments, I want to hold myself tight. I’m pathetic."

"Sis, go, return it."

In the CEO’s office, Ira Irving frowned as he scrutinized the comments on the sales platform and Weibo.

"Weibo isn’t too heated yet. Issue a notice on the official site to recall the clothes and control the backlash," Ira Irving said calmly.

One of the secretaries standing by nodded and exited the room.

"Have Zayne Sinclair and Fiona Rhodes received the news?"

The secretary replied, "We’ve already called them. President Sinclair and Mr. Rhodes must have arrived at the factory."

Ira Irving let out a heavy sigh, "Prepare the contract. As soon as they arrive, terminate the agreement."

"Yes, sir."

"Remember to refund all customers’ money and send some small gifts to appease each one. Do not let me see such comments again." Ira Irving called out to the secretary who was about to leave, gesturing towards the computer screen.

The secretary nodded respectfully, "Understood, Mr. Irving, I’ll give the orders right away."

Quickly, the marketing department and the public relations department were bustling with activity.

At Zayne Sinclair’s factory in the suburbs, people around were huddled with heads lowered.

"Didn’t I say before that this order needs to be done well? How did you all listen to that? Who procured this fabric?" Zayne Sinclair asked gloomily, holding the fabric as his eyes bore into the people before him.

"President Sinclair, it was all procured together following the company’s instructions. We... we truly weren’t aware."

"Unaware." Zayne Sinclair threw the fabric onto the supervisor’s head, "You deal with fabric; if there’s a mistake, why didn’t you report it in urgency? Are you all fools!"

The supervisor’s lips moved, but he said nothing. He thought, all the items were personally inspected by you, sir, and now there’s a problem, you start shirking responsibility?

"What, afraid to speak?" Zayne Sinclair stepped forward a few steps.

The supervisor trembled, feeling a chill enveloping him, unconquerable even with thick cotton attire: "N-no, it’s...it’s..."

Zayne Sinclair waited silently, "President Sinclair, we reported it, but no one responded, and they constantly urged us to expedite the shipment. We were really helpless."

Hearing this, the surrounding workers also stood up, voicing their grievances: "Yes, President Sinclair, we reported it several times, but there was no response from above, the delivery deadline approaching, we truly didn’t dare delay."

"Exactly, President Sinclair, we originally wanted to approach you, but we little fish and shrimp couldn’t reach you."

Zayne Sinclair’s hand at the side tightened, lips clamped straight as he glanced intensely at the secretary beside him, then addressed the supervisor: "The order sheet?"

The supervisor, somewhat unresponsive, was nudged by someone nearby before he replied, "Oh, oh, it’s stored, I’ll go fetch it." With that, he quickly went upstairs to the office.

A while later, Zayne Sinclair took over the document, told them to carry on working, and left without further word.

People were puzzled: "Supervisor, what does this mean?"

"What’s to mean, we haven’t committed any wrongs, just continue working properly."

After hearing this, they felt relieved. They were all working abroad; finding a boss who wasn’t harsh on workers wasn’t easy. Luckily, the supervisor continually reported without pause.

The speedily returning car to the company was filled with tension.

The secretary felt their teeth chattering a bit and reluctantly squeezed out a sentence: "President..."

"Did you know about this?"

The secretary shook their head swiftly, truly unaware, sticking closely with Zayne Sinclair this entire time, almost never away.

Zayne Sinclair squinted at the secretary, then finally averted his gaze, staying silent.

Upon arriving at the company, he spoke: "Summon all the responsible personnel."

The secretary nodded, promptly jogging away.

Shortly, the personnel gathered, some appeared anxious, others seemingly composed.

"Recognize this?"

Zayne Sinclair tossed the document on the table, staring coldly at those gathered.

They hung their heads, glancing over with upturned eyes in unison, shaking their heads unanimously within a breath.

"Hah." Zayne Sinclair chuckled coldly, "Won’t speak, huh? Secretary, read."

The secretary opened the file, reading the recent orders and issuances, from signatory to signatory with cutting precision.

In that instant, some felt drenched in sweat.

Outside, Vesperia’s sunshine was spectacular, peaceful, inside, a tempest raged, echoed by Zayne Sinclair’s fury and faint pleas for mercy.

The Rhodes, Fiona Rhodes’s office, held a similar oppressive atmosphere.

"Mr. Rhodes, I...I...I..." The responsible person paled, bowing, pleading.

Fiona Rhodes gazed over, said nothing, rubbing the garment, eyes on the online comments.

No matter how, while the fading was the Rhodes family’s fault, Zayne Sinclair couldn’t escape the blame, fabric issues couldn’t resolve themselves, she scoffed, eyes shifting across the room.

"Give me a reasonable explanation, otherwise get out at once."

"Mr. Rhodes, indeed, I was negligent, but all finished products were inspected by you, no issues during testing...I...I’m clueless!"

"Get out!" Fiona Rhodes’s expression was ugly, reaching this point, she knew it wasn’t one person’s fault but everyone’s failure.

She wasn’t in the mood to argue, a hard battle lay ahead.

But the one to fight wouldn’t be Fiona Rhodes.

The person’s forehead cooled as sweat dripped, quietly relieved, hurriedly heading out, shut the door, then fetched a towel to wipe, grateful not to be fired.