Chapter 147

Chapter 147

"Benjamin!" My voice was shaking as I grabbed his wrist — the one holding the phone. "You're in no shape to be arranging a private jet right now."

Benjamin paused and looked down at me. In the dim light, his face was even paler than before, and his fingers were ice cold. "Something came up back home. Can't wait." His voice was rough, but his eyes carried a sharp, cold edge.

"What about your health?" I wrapped my hand around his, panic crawling up inside me like a vine. "You're freezing, and you look terrible. No — I'm calling a doctor first."

"Don't bother." He pressed my hand still and rested his chin in the curve of my neck, nuzzling gently, his tone carrying a tired kind of reassurance. "It's just a bit of an upset stomach — new place, couple of rough days, still getting over a bug. I know my own body. I'll be fine after some sleep."

He said it like it was nothing, and the arm around my waist was still steady and strong.

I felt his body slowly warming back up. I wasn't totally at ease, but he could barely keep his eyes open, so I let it go.

"You have to tell me if anything feels worse," I murmured. "No toughing it out."

"Okay." A quiet answer, and then his breathing slowly settled.

I leaned against him and forced my eyes shut.

Maybe it was because I'd thrown up earlier and my body was just worn out — I drifted off without really meaning to.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I rolled over half-asleep and reached out — nothing.

The bed beside me was empty. Not even warm.

I jolted awake and was about to throw off the covers when the bathroom door clicked open.

Benjamin came out in a thin pair of pajamas.

The only light in the room was a dim floor lamp. I couldn't see his face clearly, but something about the way he walked looked unsteady.

"You're up?" I sat up and watched him, worried.

"Stomach." He came to the bed, lifted the covers, and slid in, pulling me close. His voice sounded weak. "Did I wake you?"

"No." I reached up and felt his forehead. No fever. I let out a quiet breath.

Just his stomach reacting to the change in environment, it seemed.

"Get some sleep," I said, wrapping my arms around him and patting his back gently. "We head home first thing in the morning."

The next morning, we boarded the private jet and flew back.

After more than ten hours in the air, the plane touched down smoothly at Harbor City airport.

With a pile of problems waiting for me back home, I switched straight into work mode the moment we landed.

"Luca, take Benjamin back to Azure Ridge Villa first," I said, standing by the car door, leaving no room for argument. "Call the family doctor and have him set up an IV drip. Benjamin's stomach needs proper care."

Benjamin was in the back seat, brows slightly furrowed. He clearly didn't want us to split up. "I'll come with you to the office."

"No." My tone went flat. "You'd just be in the way like this. Go home, rest, and I'll come to you once I've handled things at the company."

He could see I wasn't going to budge. He gave in.

He squeezed my palm and said quietly, "Call me if anything comes up."

I watched his car pull away, then turned and got into the other one. My expression went cold.

"The White Group."

Half an hour later, I walked into Conference Room One at the White Group in heels, Jade right beside me, not slowing down for anyone.

I pushed open the heavy wooden doors to find the room in full swing.

Marlowe was in the seat to the right of the head, deep in conversation with a group of executives. And Freya — Freya had the nerve to be sitting in a guest chair like she owned the place, a neatly bound project proposal in front of her and a poorly concealed smirk on her face.

The moment they saw me, the room went silent.

"Ms. White — you're back early?" Marlowe's expression flickered, then quickly settled into a strained smile. "I thought you were on vacation. We were just going over the new energy project for next quarter..."

"Going over a project." I let out a cold laugh, walked straight to the head of the table, and sat down. My eyes moved across the room and landed on Freya's carefully made-up face. "Freya, you don't even have a real role at the Johnson Group. What exactly are you doing in our conference room?"

Freya met my gaze without flinching. She even tilted her chin up, like a challenge. "Ophelia, don't get ahead of yourself. I'm here on behalf of the Johnson Group, bringing proprietary industry data to discuss a partnership. I've already compiled this data into an academic paper — it's about to be published in a top journal. With that kind of technical backing, the White Group would be the one losing out if you walk away."

Looking at that smug face, I almost felt like laughing.

"Proprietary data? Academic paper?" I leaned back in my chair, fingers tapping lightly on the table, eyes as cold as ice. "Freya, you took data that Michael stole from us — data from a project we scrapped a long time ago — and you stitched it together, dressed it up, and called it your own research. And you're calling that technical backing?"

"Besides, does anyone in this room not know what's happening with the Johnson family right now?"

The room erupted. The executives exchanged glances. Marlowe's face darkened immediately.

A flash of panic crossed Freya's eyes, but she pulled herself together fast. "That's ridiculous! Ophelia, this is slander. My team developed this data ourselves — around the clock. What proof do you have that I plagiarized anything?"

"You want proof?" I gave a cold snort and nodded at Jade.

Jade immediately handed out documents to everyone in the room and pulled up the projector.

Three screenshots appeared on the screen.

The first: a system log showing Michael's internal account downloading the data. The second: the White Group's proprietary tracking codes embedded within that data. The third: a side-by-side plagiarism comparison between Freya's so-called "unpublished paper" and the White Group's original data — with an overlap rate of eighty percent.

"Freya, our data sources have invisible watermarks built in. You didn't even bother cleaning up the plagiarism check before you tried to pull this off?" I held her gaze as the color drained from her face, each word landing like a blade. "You stole our data, slapped your name on it, and then had the nerve to walk in here and pitch us a partnership. That takes a special kind of audacity."

The evidence was airtight. Freya's composure finally cracked.

She shot to her feet, pointing at me, her voice shaking. "You — you set me up! Michael gave me that data. He told me it was the White Group's core secrets..."

"Idiot." I cut her off without mercy. I couldn't even be bothered to look at her anymore.