Chapter 65

Charles stayed quiet, knowing exactly what William was hinting at. Lately, he'd been turning down too much work, but he didn't see it as an issue.

If someone can't handle their own family, how could they possibly manage the vast Anderson Group?

With that thought, Charles felt even more convinced he was right.

"About the kidnapping case involving Patricia," William suddenly brought up, his tone sharp, "what did you find out?"

Charles stared at the wood grain on the table. The polished surface reflected his stern features. "Grandpa, it was Bruce."

William's hand holding the cigarette holder shook, and he stared at Charles in shock.

"Three years ago, Bruce took a job as a general manager at an overseas company. He transferred project data through offshore accounts and embezzled funds to blow at underground casinos abroad."

Charles explained, trying to keep his voice calm. "I believe the recent data leak from the company was likely his doing."

He handed over the documents he was holding.

William's face darkened as he opened the file. His reading glasses slid to the tip of his nose as he scanned the transfer records and email screenshots.

His Adam's apple bobbed violently. "That damned guy, I raised him myself!"

He slammed his palm on the table, causing the cigar to roll onto the floor.

Charles stayed silent.

William looked at the red veins in Charles's eyes, his voice softening with a hint of a choke. "Charles, you've had it tough. All these years, you've protected the Anderson Family and him, but he..."

"Grandpa, it's no use talking about it now," Charles said, feeling nothing as he poured a cup of coffee and handed it over. "I think we should bring it up at the shareholders' meeting..."

"Keep it under wraps!" William interrupted, a fierce glint in his eyes. "The international summit is coming up, and the Anderson Group can't afford to lose its footing now! After the summit, I'll personally clean house!"

Charles couldn't argue with William's decision.

After a moment of silence, he nodded. "Alright."

He paused, then met William's gaze. "But there's one thing I must mention."

"Go ahead."

"Patricia," Charles's voice was steady, "is a victim in this incident. I believe Bruce's main target was me, not her, yet she was dragged into it and threatened with kidnapping. She deserves proper compensation."

William squinted, twirling the cigar between his fingers. "What kind of compensation are you thinking?"

"Establish a design fund in her name to support independent designers," Charles said, looking William in the eye, enunciating each word. "She deserves it."

"You've been bewitched by a woman and lost your mind!" William raised an eyebrow, curiously eyeing Charles. "You can handle that yourself. I thought you were going to say something more significant."

Charles glanced at him and continued, "Additionally, I want Patricia and Emily to officially join the Anderson Family."

"Are you crazy?" William slammed the table, standing up abruptly. "She's an outsider and currently has no right to join the Anderson Family!"

"She's not an outsider," Charles stood up, taking a step forward, his tall figure casting an imposing shadow on the floor. "She's my wife, and she's also Emily's mother. It's only reasonable for her to join the Anderson Family."

William was taken aback by the stubbornness in Charles's eyes. This grandson, who had always been cold and reticent, had never been so protective of anyone.

Although Patricia's recent actions had greatly restored the Anderson Group's reputation and stock price, she was still just an orphan.

If it weren't for Emily, he wouldn't have allowed Patricia to live in Rosewood Estate in the first place.

But living in Rosewood Estate and joining the Anderson Family were two different things.

He was somewhat surprised that Charles, who had always prioritized family interests, would go to such lengths for Patricia.

After staring at Charles for a long while, William finally sighed. "Do as you wish. But if anything goes wrong at the summit, I won't let you off the hook."

Before Charles and Emily returned to Rosewood Estate, Missy had given them a bunch of gifts.

Back at Rosewood Estate, they found Patricia sitting in the living room, fiddling with her iPad.

Emily kicked off her shoes at the entrance, grabbed a box from the maid, and ran to Patricia, handing it to her.

"What's this?" Patricia asked, surprised, looking at Emily and then at Charles.

"Mom sent it," Charles said, lifting his daughter off Patricia and placing her on the carpet, then pushing the other gift boxes onto the table. "She said it's to help you recover."

Patricia opened the top box, which contained some expensive nutritional supplements, specifically for men.

She opened another box, which also contained men's supplements, and frowned. "Charles, you..."

Was Charles really that weak?

Did he need to take these supplements now? And they were arranged by Missy, no less.

Ellie, who was carrying a fruit platter, glanced at the gift boxes and immediately understood, a knowing smile appearing on her lips as she turned away, her apron strings trembling.

Patricia was surprised by Ellie's reaction. She looked at Charles's tense jawline and suddenly had a sinking feeling.

No wonder he had been leaving early and coming back late recently, with dark circles under his eyes that couldn't be concealed. Could it be?

"Well, you should take them," Patricia said, trying hard not to laugh too obviously.

Charles was momentarily stunned, then realized what she meant, his ears turning red. "I'm fine. We can return them later."

"No need," Patricia quickly pressed his hand down. "Let's not waste her good intentions."

Patricia peeled fruit for Emily while Charles watched her, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I'll be very busy before the summit, so I might not have time to be with you."

"Okay, I understand," Patricia said without looking up, feeding a slice of orange to their daughter. "You focus on your work. Don't worry about us."

Hearing this, Charles felt a pang of discomfort.

The next day, Missy arrived at Rosewood Estate right on time, carrying a thermos.

Patricia was in the bedroom sketching on her iPad when she heard Ellie announce Missy's arrival. She paused her drawing.

"Why is she here?" She put down her pencil and turned off the iPad screen, getting up. "Didn't we agree the dress would be ready next week?"

Entering the living room, she saw Missy playing with Emily.

Seeing Patricia, Missy immediately stood up, her face beaming with a smile. "Patricia, look what I brought you!"

She opened the thermos, revealing a pot of tenderly stewed chicken soup.

Missy ladled out a bowl and handed it over. "Drink it while it's hot. It tastes great."

Patricia took the bowl, feeling even more puzzled.

Missy had always disliked her. Why the sudden change?

"Thank you."

She took a casual sip of the soup and set it down, waiting for Missy to get to the point.

But Missy's eyes were roaming around the living room, from the east window to the west, then peeking into the dining room, as if looking for someone.

Patricia found it odd. Wasn't she here for the dress?

"If you're in a hurry for the dress, I can finish it today," Patricia said calmly. "But I have a condition."

Missy, who had been staring at the shadows at the end of the hallway, snapped back to attention. "What condition? Just say it!"

As long as she could find out where the teacher who resembled that woman was, she'd agree to any condition, even ten of them.

Patricia was taken aback by her eagerness. She leaned in and whispered in Missy's ear.

Missy slapped her thigh and immediately agreed.

Patricia was stunned by her promptness, hesitating for a moment before asking, "Really?"

"I'll take care of it right now," Missy said, getting up and heading for the door.

At the entrance, she turned back to remind Patricia, "Take your time with the dress. Don't overwork yourself!"

Watching Missy leave in a hurry, Patricia twirled the spoon in her bowl.

What was going on? Had Missy really started to care about her?

Ellie, noticing Patricia's confusion, couldn't help but laugh. "Mrs. Missy Anderson is feeling sorry for you."

Patricia glanced at her. "Feeling sorry for me? More like she's worried about the dress."