SMR | Chapter 44

~Chapter 44~

Her heart raced. People were selling soap everywhere, so would Cedric really scoff at the need for a non-disclosure agreement over something so trivial?

But she had come this far—there was no turning back now.

“This is the business plan. I thought it would save time to have you look at this first, so I’ve prepared it in advance.”

The documents seemed flawless when she had reviewed them this morning, but now that she was about to present them, a sense of unease crept in, as if there might be a flaw somewhere.

Cedric took the papers quietly and began flipping through them, one page at a time.

This is what it feels like to be anxious. What if he throws it aside? Why did I even come here?

Just as her nerves started to get the best of her, she remembered something Roxana had said while helping her write the business proposal.

“Half of a successful business is thorough preparation, and the other half is guts. No matter how perfect your plan is, if the business owner looks timid, no investor will trust their money with them.”

How did she appear to Cedric right now? Hadn’t she spent all this time acting arrogant, lifting her chin high, only to come begging for money now and worrying about his judgment? But why should she let him treat her that way?

No, there was no reason to be afraid. Cedric wasn’t the one who would decide her fate.

I even rejected his offer of support when I was about to leave the monastery. Where did that courage go back then?

Harriet took a deep, quiet breath and looked Cedric straight in the eye.

As he read through the document, his long, thick eyelashes lowered, and every time he blinked, his eyes—unlike the smile he had shown earlier—looked serious.

Finally, after reaching the last page and reading the final word, Cedric put the papers down and leaned back.

“Honestly…”

Harriet heard a soft gulp as she swallowed nervously. It was a sound probably only audible to her own ears.

“There are a few interesting points, but I can’t fully trust the product’s competitiveness. Can the monastery produce a soap that’s better than what a company that specializes in beauty products makes?”

In that instant, memories of stirring the cauldron for hours to make the soap surged in her mind, and her frustration rose.

“Are you comparing it to the kinds of products made in big factories, where they don’t even clean the large pots properly and use untested chemicals and fragrances?”

“If you use that language outside, you might be facing a lawsuit with those companies.”

“But the products I researched didn’t even explain what specific fragrances and foaming agents were used in their soaps. You couldn’t find that information on the packaging anywhere. How is that any different from something unverified?”

Harriet remembered the causes of her skin conditions like rashes and pimples in the past—there were many factors, including food and lifestyle, but the soap and cosmetics she had used had contributed as well.

“The soaps and herbal products from Saint Clarissa Monastery can reveal every ingredient used. We’ve been using these ingredients for years, so I can guarantee their safety. In fact, the nuns who make the soap even test it to make sure it’s been made properly.”

“But there are already soaps out there, like the famous olive soaps from Natarixen.”

“But they don’t have Harriet Listerwell, do they?”

Harriet smiled brightly.

The key to this business wasn’t just the superior product; it was also having a model who could attract attention.

“Having a good product doesn’t mean it will sell well. You need something to drive people to buy it. And in this business, that element is me—Harriet Listerwell.”

“Quite… confident, aren’t you?”

“It’s not unfounded confidence. Just the fact that a scandal maker like me, who spent a year in the monastery, has now reappeared in society is surprising enough. And my face, once covered in skin blemishes, has cleared up.”

Only then did Cedric sink deeper into the sofa, his expression turning satisfied.

“Everyone will be curious about the secret behind it, and you’re selling the very products from Saint Clarissa that helped you.”

“That’s why I’m in a hurry. I need to get things rolling before the buzz dies down.”

Cedric’s lips twisted into a slight smile.

“Miss Listerwell, in business, you can’t let people know that you’re desperate. It’s like going into a deal already defeated.”

“From the way you’re talking, it seems you’re not really interested in beating me, are you?”

“Pfft, hahaha!”

Cedric couldn’t help but burst into laughter again.

Even when his father was head of the family, Cedric had often sat in meetings like this as part of his heir training, and after formally inheriting the title of Duke, he had met with many people.

But there had never been anyone like Harriet.

She was so bold, so confident, yet unpredictably careless.

Cedric thought it was a good decision to allow her audience request. This woman never gave him a dull moment.

“As a token of gratitude for making me laugh, let me give you a few pointers. When choosing a store to sell your soap, it’s better to go for Sevial rather than Payton. I see you were considering Harrow for distribution, but they don’t deal with anyone from Saint Clarissa Monastery, so they’d charge you high delivery fees…”

He went on to give her detailed advice about the store, distribution, and distribution methods—things Harriet had never expected.

So, based on this advice, should I revise the business plan and approach someone else?

At this point, it was either sink or swim. Harriet clenched her fist and spoke.

“If you invest, Your Grace, we could use the Aster Trading Company, which handles the Duke’s distribution network. They have the largest network, so we could save on costs, and they would likely be familiar with the distribution methods for products sensitive to temperature changes.”

Cedric rested his chin in his hand, smiling slightly.

“Neither I nor the Duke’s family would see a significant benefit from this business.”

“I know that. But the reason I approached you first was to see if you might be willing to help Saint Clarissa Monastery.”

Harriet revealed the final piece of her argument.

The monastery’s long-awaited project, ‘The Shelter for Girls,’ had started thanks to his donation, but suddenly, a nearby orphanage had closed down, increasing the number of girls who needed to be taken in. The monastery couldn’t delay the project, but they didn’t have the funds.

“Saint Clarissa Monastery doesn’t receive a lot of donations. To protect the lives of girls with nowhere else to go, we need a sustainable source of funds for the long term.”

“So, Miss Listerwell, are you saying that you’ve planned this business not for your own benefit, but for the monastery?”

“I’m not that selfless. I just saw it as a way to help both the monastery and myself.”

Was that the right answer? Cedric nodded.

“Alright. I’ll invest.”

“Really?”

Harriet was surprised by his acceptance and asked again.

“You asked for an investment, didn’t you?”

“Ah, yes, I did. I’m happy to proceed.”

“Since you’re in a hurry, I’ll let my assistant know the details today and figure out how we can help. First, we need to secure a store.”

As he thought for a moment, Cedric rang a bell on the table.

Soon, a man, likely his assistant, appeared silently.

“I remember a vacant store on Seriol Street that became available about two weeks ago.”

“Yes, we are currently looking for a new contract partner for it.”

“That’s been decided just now.”

Harriet was left dumbfounded as Cedric picked up the business plan again, walking back and forth while continuing to speak.

“You’ve set the business costs—store rent, distribution fees, advertising—at 200,000 dirhams, with a projected profit of 50,000 dirhams for the first three months. Let’s raise the bar a bit.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we’re going to scale things up. It wouldn’t make sense for a Duke’s family to get involved if the first three months of income are only 50,000 dirhams.”

He took a pen, drew two lines across parts of the plan, and wrote new figures.

“The store rent for the Seriol location owned by the Duke’s family is 80,000 dirhams per month.”

“Eh?”

“I’ll charge you half of that.”

While that was still 10,000 dirhams more than Harriet’s initial budget of 30,000 dirhams, considering it was a store on Seriol Street, the price was far lower than expected.

“You’ll still be using the Aster Trading Company for distribution, but, as you mentioned, it’s a bit more expensive. They’re faster and have better product management than other companies.”

“Then, should I use another company…”

“Who taught you such unethical business practices? I’m investing in this project, so we’ll use our own company for distribution.”

“Oh, right.”

From that point on, Harriet felt like she was being pulled along by Cedric, swept into the situation without much say.