"Mr. Jiang, the personnel decisions of our company have nothing to do with you!"
As silence fell over the hall, Dong Minglun's expression darkened, but he had no choice but to speak up. His goal was very clear.
If Jim Walton's ultimate aim was control of the company, with Sam's Club as the first step, Dong Minglun knew he had little hope of achieving that through the business itself. But if he could marry Pra Walton, he'd gain de facto control of Sam's Club—and by extension, power and influence within the Walton empire.
Becoming the Walton family's son-in-law would give him everything he wanted: wealth, status, and control.
In his mind, the plan was foolproof. Regardless of how capable Pra was, she was just a woman—and an illegitimate daughter at that. Her father, unwilling to let Sam's Club fall into the hands of his brother, had agreed to Dong Minglun's proposal. It was a necessary compromise to preserve power.
But then Jiang Hai appeared—disrupting his carefully laid plans.
Dong had long viewed the "Ice Queen" Pra Walton as his rightful possession. But Jiang Hai's actions tonight had made it clear to everyone that he wasn't just some irrelevant outsider.
And if Jiang Hai followed through on his words and refused to supply beef to the Wal-Mart Group, it would be catastrophic. Even if Jim Walton gave up on acquiring Sam's Club, he wouldn't dare alienate someone like Jiang Hai.
After all, Jim was a businessman first—and a power-hungry son second. If the empire he inherited was full of holes, he'd be inheriting a burden, not a legacy.
Most importantly, the board of directors would never allow Jiang Hai's lucrative supply chain to vanish simply because of internal politics.
"Yes, Wal-Mart's internal staffing isn't my concern," Jiang Hai replied coolly, glancing at Dong Minglun before turning his eyes briefly to Pra. "But my beef is. If Pra Walton isn't in charge of Sam's Club, then I'm not selling it to you."
Dong Minglun opened his mouth but couldn't respond. He wanted to shout, "Do you think you're the only one with beef?"—but even he knew better.
Jiang Hai's beef was in a league of its own. He didn't know why, but the fact was undeniable.
When a cow from Jiang Hai's ranch entered the Wal-Mart Group, its premium cuts were sent to Sam's Club, where high-end meat sold for top dollar. The rest, still superior to ordinary beef, was sold in regular Wal-Mart stores—but at a 30% markup.
His beef had become a brand, a symbol of quality that couldn't be duplicated.
Even though they'd tried buying live cattle from him, once removed from his ranch, the cows lost their exceptional qualities.
This wasn't Wagyu. These were Angus—naturally inferior, unless raised under Jiang Hai's specific conditions. Others simply couldn't replicate the result.
That's why Jiang Hai could speak with such confidence, and Dong Minglun couldn't respond.
"Mr. Jiang," a calm voice interrupted the growing tension. It was Robertson Walton, who had remained silent until now. Smiling gently, he stepped forward. "This is a party, after all. Let's not talk business tonight. I'll report your concerns to the board. For now, let's enjoy ourselves."
Without waiting for Jiang Hai to reply, he raised his glass and addressed the crowd. The mood quickly lightened, and glasses clinked in celebration.
Still, many guests were now glancing at Jiang Hai with curious, even admiring, eyes.
"Young man, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'll give serious thought to what you've said," Robertson Walton added quietly as he passed Jiang Hai, offering a nod before leaving.
Dong Minglun shot Jiang Hai a cold glare before walking off, simmering with humiliation.
"You… you're not worried you've exposed yourself?"
Still in Jiang Hai's arms, Pra Walton looked up at him, biting her lip in concern.
"It doesn't matter. I suspect you'll remain president of Sam's Club for now," he said with a soft smile, brushing her nose with his finger. "And you can help fend off the snakes. Want me to get you something to eat?"
Pra's gaze softened, her eyes glimmering.
"I don't want anything to eat. I just want to go with you."
"Go where?" Jiang Hai asked, slightly confused.
"To your room."
Her eyes burned with intensity, and Jiang Hai didn't hesitate. With a soft chuckle, he took her hand and led her away.
As the two exited, several men exchanged knowing looks. Dong Minglun's jaw clenched so hard it seemed his teeth might crack.
Back in the suite, as soon as the door clicked shut, Pra lunged into Jiang Hai's arms, kissing him deeply.
She had struggled for days to find a way out of her family's trap, only to realize she had none. The plan to marry Dong Minglun was a dead end—one that would strip her of her dignity, her control, and her career.
Resigning from Sam's Club would be the only way to escape. But for a woman who valued her career above all else, that was a devastating choice.
And then Jiang Hai appeared, like a prince on a white horse. He saved not only her dignity but also her future.
At that moment, Pra Walton could no longer hold back. She gave in to the emotions she'd kept buried.
The passion between them ignited like wildfire. Clothes quickly vanished, and soon the room echoed with the sounds of their union. From the sofa to the floor, to the wall and even the carpet—each space bore witness to their intense, unrestrained night.
By the time they made it to the bed, two hours had passed. Jiang Hai had already gone three rounds, but Pra Walton showed no signs of slowing. She clung to him, her body moving with wild determination, her breath hot in his ear.
"You're going to wear me out…" Jiang Hai muttered after finally catching his breath, giving her backside a playful swat.
"I don't care. Tonight, I'm yours. All night long. If one part doesn't work, I've got others. I just want to be with you…"
She stared into his eyes with fierce sincerity.
And Jiang Hai, unwilling to be outdone, flipped her over with a grin.
Tonight, he would tame this wild mare.
What followed could not be put into words—at least, not in polite company.
The next morning, sunlight poured into the room.
Waking up, Jiang Hai shifted slightly—only to realize he was still connected to Pra.
She moaned softly at the movement, stirring awake. As she sat up and tried to stand, a pained whimper escaped her lips. Her legs had given out.
"Let's go together."
Smiling, Jiang Hai scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bathroom. A joint shower followed… though it quickly turned into something more.
"Want to go again?" she teased, noticing his reaction.
"No way. You'll collapse for real," Jiang Hai said firmly, shaking his head.
"It's fine. I've still got my hands and mouth," she whispered seductively before dropping to her knees.
Half an hour later, after another round and a second shower, the two lay on the bed again.
"Jiang… do you know my story?" Pra asked, her head on his chest.
"Not really," Jiang Hai admitted.
"Let me tell you."
Her tale wasn't fantastical, but it was deeply painful.
Her mother had been Robertson Walton's secretary. When Pra was born, her mother took a payout of three million dollars and disappeared with another man, abandoning her.
Pra was raised by her father but never accepted—neither by him nor by his family. Her childhood was one of coldness, rejection, and isolation.
At fourteen, something happened—an incident Jiang Hai didn't want details about, and Pra didn't elaborate on. But it involved her family and marked the beginning of her distrust in men.
From then on, she only trusted women.
But even that trust eventually faded. Power corrupted. Pain lingered.
She rose, succeeded, and built walls around herself—until Jiang Hai shattered them.
"You're the first man I've ever let in here," she said, placing her hand over her heart. "I don't want to marry you. I know your situation. But I like you—very much. Let's just stay like this. Forever."
Jiang Hai looked into her eyes.
"Of course. No problem."
In truth, Pra was unlike any of his other women. They weren't trophies to him—but she was an equal. And whatever she wanted, he'd give her freely.
"I want it again."
Smiling seductively, she climbed on top of him.
"Let's eat first," Jiang Hai said, laughing. "You're skin and bones. I can feel your ribs."
"I don't want food—I want you."
"Later. Food first."
Pulling on a bathrobe, Jiang Hai picked up the phone and ordered room service. Whether Pra was hungry or not, he definitely was.
To be continued…