Chapter 214
Frederick glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing deeper, but he answered.
An elderly yet vigorous voice came through. "Fred, sorry to bother you so late."
It was Daisy's grandfather, Donald Taylor.
"Mr. Donald Taylor." Frederick's tone softened slightly but remained cool.
"Did Daisy come looking for you?"
Donald got straight to the point, his voice carrying helplessness and a touch of apology.
"I've spoiled that child since she was little. Stubborn as they come—once she sets her mind on something, there's no changing it. She ran off to Riverside City alone, and I'm worried. I know she's causing you trouble, but she's just a young woman in an unfamiliar place..."
Donald sighed. "Fred, for the sake of your grandfather and me being in the trenches together back in the day, could you keep an eye on her? Don't let her indulge her whims, but don't let her come to harm either. In a couple of days, I'll send someone to bring her home."
With Donald putting it that way, Frederick couldn't refuse.
This wasn't just about doing someone a favor—it was generations of family friendship and a weighty entrustment.
"Understood, Mr. Donald Taylor." His voice was grave as he agreed.
After hanging up, Frederick pulled out his phone and dialed Liam directly.
"Book Ms. Taylor a suite. Put it on my account."
"Also, bring a female secretary from Silverwave City to look after her."
Liam, on the other end, paused, then immediately understood.
He'd heard about the Taylor family's daughter chasing Frederick all the way to Riverside City.
This approach showed Donald respect while preventing Daisy from getting close or causing further entanglement.
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
"Right away, Mr. Stuart."
Frederick hung up and headed into the elevator.
Outside the elevator doors, Daisy seethed with frustration she couldn't voice.
What she wanted was to stay by his side.
Inside the presidential suite.
Frederick yanked off his tie, irritably grabbed the bottle on the table, and poured half a glass of whiskey. He drained it in one gulp.
The harsh liquid burned down his throat, but he couldn't suppress that wildly growing thought in his mind.
What if?
What if she was still alive?
Once that thought broke through the surface, it wrapped around his heart like vines, squeezing tighter and tighter.
He shot to his feet and grabbed his phone, dialing Liam again.
"Mr. Stuart?" Liam clearly hadn't gone to bed yet.
"Investigate." Frederick's voice came out low, suppressing some emotion.
"Check all patient records and security footage from Brightwater Health Center this afternoon."
Liam's heart tightened.
"Also." Frederick paused, his voice taking on a ruthless, desperate edge. "Continue searching for Beatrice's whereabouts. If she's alive, I want to see her..."
He closed his eyes. That silhouette wouldn't leave his mind.
"...If she's dead, I want to see her body."
Since that fire had revealed no trace of Beatrice's DNA, there was a thread of hope.
Rain fell endlessly over Silverwave City, as if trying to soak the entire metropolis in damp melancholy.
In another presidential suite on the same floor, the climate control system sealed out all cold dampness. The air held the subtle scent of white tea aromatherapy.
Daisy stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows in a silk robe, watching the gray sky and rain-soaked streets below.
This was already her third day here.
Three incredibly, unbearably boring days!
"Ms. Taylor." A steady, emotionless female voice came from behind her.
"The chicken soup you ordered is ready. Would you like it now?"
Daisy turned to look at Hatty Bailey, Frederick's executive secretary.
She was around thirty, wearing an impeccably tailored black suit, her hair styled without a strand out of place. Gold-rimmed glasses sat on her nose, and her expression held that perpetually flawless professional smile.
These past few days, Hatty had been on call twenty-four hours, arranging every aspect of Daisy's life with meticulous care.
Every morning, she prepared summaries of global fashion news.
When Daisy wanted to shop, Hatty immediately secured VIP rooms at top luxury brands with full store clearances.
When Daisy wanted a spa treatment, the city's best therapists appeared in the suite within half an hour.
Daisy was cared for with impeccable attention—and isolated just as thoroughly.
She couldn't see Frederick.
Nine out of ten calls went to Liam. Even when Frederick himself answered, his voice was always ice-cold.
"I don't want it." Daisy waved her hand irritably.
"This miserable weather—so damp it makes you uncomfortable from the inside out. I hate Riverside City. Stuffy and sticky, not refreshing at all."
Hatty's smile didn't waver. "Riverside City does tend toward excessive rainfall. I've already had housekeeping add two top-grade dehumidifiers to your room, and I've instructed the kitchen that tonight's menu will focus on dishes that support the spleen and expel dampness. If you're feeling unwell, I've scheduled appointments with the city's best doctors. They're available for consultations at any time."
The response left Daisy speechless.
Like punching cotton—suffocating and useless.
"I don't want to see any doctors." She barely contained her temper.
"I want to see Fred. Tell him I have something very important to discuss."
"Of course, Ms. Taylor. I'll relay your request to Liam." Hatty bowed slightly, tone still respectful.
Liam again.
Always Liam.
Daisy's chest heaved. She finally collapsed onto the sofa in defeat.
She knew this was already the most face Frederick could give to the Taylor family—to her grandfather.
But she didn't want a secretary's impeccable care.
Her phone suddenly rang. Seeing the caller ID, her eyes lit up. She immediately straightened.
She cleared her throat, and the instant she answered, her voice turned soft and sweet. "Fred?"
Silence on the other end for a second. "It's me."
"You... you finally called me."
Daisy's voice held perfectly calibrated surprise and grievance. "I thought you'd forgotten all about me."
"Call from Mr. Donald Taylor." Frederick's tone held no inflection, completely straightforward. "He's asking when you're coming home."
Daisy's heart went cold, her smile freezing.
She gripped the phone tighter, nails digging into her palm. "I... I just got here. We haven't discussed the project yet..."
He'd severed cooperation with the Taylor Group. Donald had personally written him an email, and not wanting to embarrass Donald, Frederick had Liam release a few collaborative projects.
This time, Daisy had come under the pretense of discussing business, but her real motives were obvious to everyone.
"Liam will coordinate project matters with the Taylor Group's representatives." Frederick cut her off.
"Enjoy yourself for a few days, then head back. Don't make your grandfather worry."
Polite yet distant, allowing no closeness.
"Fred, I—"
"I have a meeting."
The call disconnected abruptly.
Listening to the dial tone, the gentle expression on Daisy's face shattered piece by piece.