Chapter 223
Early morning, Josephine was jolted awake by a phone call.
"Ms. Kennedy, where are you? Professor Jagger's plane has already landed. We're all waiting for you—why aren't you here yet?"
At the voice, Josephine snapped fully awake. "I'm so sorry, this is my fault. I'm on my way right now! Give me twenty minutes—no, fifteen is enough."
"Ms. Kennedy, you're extremely unreliable. The professor is very unhappy!" The assistant's voice was laced with anger.
"I know, it's entirely my fault. I'm so sorry. Please give me a chance to apologize to the professor in person." Josephine apologized while scrambling out of bed, fumbling to get dressed.
The assistant had already hung up.
No time to dwell on it. Josephine threw on clothes, splashed water on her face, grabbed her phone and wallet, and rushed out the door.
A twenty-minute drive—she pushed it, compressing the time down to fifteen.
The moment she got out of the car, she spotted two men at the arrival gate: a middle-aged man in his fifties and a younger man in his thirties.
Both wore stern expressions.
Josephine jogged over. The assistant spotted her first. "Ms. Kennedy?"
Josephine nodded. "Yes. I'm so sorry I'm late."
The assistant's face darkened. Before Josephine could react, he launched into a tirade. "Ms. Kennedy, your sense of time is absolutely terrible. You promised to pick us up on time. We arrived—where were you? Were you sleeping in?"
Josephine couldn't argue. She had overslept.
She'd spent half the night turning over recent events in her mind, too preoccupied to sleep properly. There wasn't much to explain. "I'm sorry. This is my fault."
Jagger seemed less angry than his assistant. He said flatly, "Enough. I've been standing here for half an hour."
After hours on a plane, exhaustion was written all over his face.
Josephine quickly said, "I've arranged the hotel. I'll drive you both there now."
On the way to the hotel, Josephine tried to speak several times, but Jagger kept his eyes closed, resting. The assistant wore a sour expression. By the time the car stopped at the hotel entrance, Josephine hadn't found an opening.
She calmed herself. She was already late—might as well get them settled first.
At the hotel room, Josephine ordered food and made sure everything was perfectly arranged. Jagger's expression visibly improved.
Even the assistant couldn't find anything to complain about.
When Josephine left, the assistant walked her out. His face wasn't quite as harsh as before, though he still wasn't smiling. "Just this once. Don't let it happen again."
Josephine nodded. "I'm sorry. This was my mistake. Please apologize to the professor on my behalf."
She hadn't found the right moment inside. When she'd tried to speak, Jagger had said he was tired. She couldn't bring herself to linger.
The assistant waved it off. "Don't worry. The professor isn't that petty."
Hearing that, Josephine finally relaxed. As long as he wasn't angry, her father's treatment wouldn't be delayed.
She made a point of going back to see her father and share the good news.
After hearing it, Preston sighed. "You never listen. I told you I'm fine. Why go looking for a doctor—a professor, no less? That must cost a lot of money."
Josephine pulled him down to sit, squeezing his shoulder gently. "Don't worry about the money."
After divorcing Gideon, she'd received what she was owed.
She'd noticed the bank deposit about two weeks ago. That's when she learned David had been pulling strings behind the scenes.
The contradiction was stark. David had ensured she got her share of the assets. Now David was threatening her, backing her into a corner.
The man was a walking paradox.
After leaving her parents' place, Josephine kept thinking about standing Cedric up the night before. The more she thought about it, the worse she felt. She called her best friend Sophia.
"What's there to agonize over? Just treat him to a meal and apologize," Sophia said on the other end. "You owe him dinner anyway."
Fair point.
Josephine thought it over and decided it was doable. Cedric hadn't said anything, but disappearing on him like that was definitely her fault. She owed him an explanation.
The next day at work, Josephine waited by Cedric's office door. When she saw him arrive, she followed him in.
"Mr. Getty," she began carefully, "last time I said I'd treat you to dinner, but something came up... Are you free tonight? I'd like to make it up to you."
Cedric set down his briefcase and looked up at her. He stared for a moment, long enough that Josephine started to squirm.
She even began to regret making the offer.
Maybe Cedric didn't want to have dinner with her at all. Maybe he'd enjoyed dining with Sloane...
Lost in anxious thoughts, Cedric spoke. "You're not going to bail on me again, are you?"
All day, Josephine found it hard to focus on work, her mind circling around how to apologize properly. That afternoon, she confirmed her schedule in advance to make absolutely sure no unexpected issues would disrupt this dinner.
At six p.m., Josephine packed up and prepared to leave.
Cedric had chosen a private restaurant in a somewhat remote location. He'd originally suggested they go together, but Josephine declined. She wanted to drive herself—less chance of coworkers seeing them and starting rumors.
Halfway there, her phone rang.
Her mother.
"Mom, I'm on the road. What's—"
"Jojo, come back right now!"
Gemma's anxious voice came through the line. "Your father's been attacked! He's at the hospital!"
Josephine's face went white. Her father was gentle, never got into fights. How could this happen today...
She forced herself to stay calm. "Which hospital?"
"Tranquil Hospital. Don't panic—drive safely. I'm here. The doctors are treating him now."
"I'll be right there!"
Easy to say. With her father hurt, how could she stay calm? She floored it, the car shooting forward.
The car screeched to a halt at the hospital entrance. A pedestrian jumped back, startled, and cursed at the driver getting out. "Watch where you're going! You almost hit me!"
"Sorry." Josephine hurried out and ran straight into the hospital.
The emergency room was chaotic. Josephine finally found the ward.
Gemma sat by the bed, clutching Preston's hand. Preston lay there with gauze wrapped around his head, face pale, unconscious.
Josephine stood in the doorway. In that moment, her heart finally settled.
At least it wasn't life-threatening.
Her legs felt weak as she walked in—whether from fear or from running so hard, she couldn't tell.
"Mom."
Gemma turned at the sound, eyes still swollen. "You're here."
She turned her face away, not wanting her daughter to see.
Josephine didn't ask. She just put an arm around her mother's shoulders and looked at her father. "How is he?"
Gemma said, "The doctor said he hit his head, but it's not serious. He should wake up tonight."
"Then let's let him rest." Josephine led her mother out of the room and gently closed the door. Only then did she ask, "How did Dad get hurt? Who did this?"
Gemma's eyes reddened, anger flashing across her face. "Some young punk from the neighborhood—came out of nowhere, got into an argument with your dad, shoved him. He hit his head on a rock and passed out right there. If a neighbor hadn't seen it and told me, who knows how long he would've been lying there!"