The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 831

Ivy was stunned. “Me? In charge of trading? I’m still an intern. According to the rules…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll grant you the necessary permissions.”

Ivy hadn’t expected to get hands-on experience so soon. After a brief moment of excitement, she quickly composed herself.

“Mr. Shaw, let’s see how things look tomorrow before we decide,” she said. She knew she would have to pull an all-nighter to prepare. This was her chance to make a name for herself, and if she failed, it would be much harder to build her reputation later.

“Alright. I trust you.”

After Edmond left, the department was abuzz with chatter. Some were hoping to see Ivy fail, others were curious if she could actually stop the losses and turn a profit, and a few even suspected she had some sort of special relationship with Edmond. Why else would he risk his career to give an intern such unprecedented authority?

That night, Ivy burned the midnight oil, gathering information from all over the world. To succeed in finance, it wasn't enough to be a lone wolf; you needed resources, connections, and strategic maneuvering. Thanks to the network of experts she had built during her early years in the stock market, all she had to do was use her old moniker, “Mrs. Smith,” to chat with people and gather valuable intelligence.

Immersed in her work, she forgot about sleep and the passing time.

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that Jamison, returning from his own late shift, saw the light on in the study and realized she was still working.

He pushed open the ajar door, frowning. “Why are you still awake?”

Ivy looked up at him, her eyes weary. “You’re back? I’m almost done. You can go wash up. I’ve already showered.”

She had felt tired around ten and had taken a shower to wake herself up before returning to her computer.

Jamison’s frown deepened. He was clearly displeased, but seeing her intense focus, he knew she was in the middle of something important. He decided not to interrupt and went to wash up first.

When he returned, his annoyance had grown, but thankfully, Ivy was finished. The printer was humming, spitting out pages of data.

Ivy stood by the printer, waiting, her eyes closed as she rolled her head to relieve the stiffness in her neck.

Jamison, a mix of anger and concern, walked over and, without a word, began to massage her shoulders and neck.

Ivy started, then turned to him with a soft smile. “Thank you, honey…”

Jamison looked at the thick stack of papers she had printed, his voice tinged with coldness. “What exactly are you working on? Your thesis?”

“My undergraduate thesis isn't this thick,” Ivy replied with a smile as she collected the papers and stapled them together. She then told him about what had happened during the day.

After listening, Jamison grew concerned. “Are you sure Edmond Shaw isn’t setting you up?”

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