Chapter 152 Would You Marry Me?

Chapter 152 Would You Marry Me?

"Cut the crap." Eleanor's voice was ice-cold.

"How long have you been keeping my teacher locked up here?"

"Since the dock explosion. He's been with me the whole time. I've treated him well—gave him the best medication, the best medical equipment. No one's laid a finger on him. It's just that he's old, his health was already failing, and the lab conditions here aren't quite up to hospital standards. That's why he's wasted away like this."

"You're lying." Eleanor's laugh was bitter. "You turned him into a research subject. You tried to force him to refine the SKTrelin formula for you. When he refused, you locked him in this godforsaken underground cell. And you call that treating him well?"

The smile gradually faded from Jagger's face.

He lifted his coffee cup for another sip, then set it down with deliberate precision. When he spoke again, his tone had turned cold. "Ms. Mitchell, since you managed to find this place, I'm sure you already know why I needed Joseph. SKTrelin's potential goes far beyond those low-purity products flooding the market right now. Its predecessor was a gene therapy designed to cure hereditary diseases. If we could successfully refine it, we wouldn't just dramatically increase its efficacy—we could reduce side effects to practically nothing and eliminate addiction entirely. At that point, it would become a legitimate, cutting-edge pharmaceutical. The profits would dwarf anything the black market could offer."

"Unfortunately, Joseph wouldn't cooperate. He'd rather starve himself to this state than write me a single useful line of that formula. So I've been waiting. Waiting for his student to come looking for him."

"Ms. Mitchell, you're his only heir. Everything he knew, you know. I have the world's top biotech pharmaceutical team right here. All you have to do is work with them, build on Joseph's research foundation, and refine SKTrelin; it becomes just a matter of time. When that happens, we split the profits right down the middle. You and Joseph won't have to lift a finger for the rest of your lives—just collect the checks. So what do you say? Want to think it over?"

Eleanor looked at him, and suddenly she smiled.

"You know what? Before I caught Timothy, he said almost the exact same thing to me. He said if I'd just submit to you, I could have everything I wanted. I'll give you the same answer I gave him then."

"I would rather die than work for scum like you. You people make me sick just looking at you, let alone partnering with you. You have my teacher's blood on your hands. The blood of countless people destroyed by SKTrelin. And you want me to help you refine it? Keep dreaming."

Jagger's expression finally darkened.

He slammed his coffee cup down on the desk with a dull thud.

Then he stood, looming over Eleanor. "If you won't cooperate, there's no point continuing this conversation. But do you really think you're walking out of this estate alive? My men are everywhere."

With that, he pressed a hidden button on the desktop.

A shrill alarm suddenly blared throughout the building.

Rapid footsteps echoed down the hallway—at least a dozen men converging on the office. Jagger's lips curled into a cold smile as he turned toward the hidden door behind his desk.

But he'd barely taken a step when the main office door was kicked violently open from outside. The intruders weren't Jagger's security team—they were Black Claws and his tactical squad. Black Claws was dragging a security captain by the collar, then hurled him to the floor. The captain's face was bruised and bloodied, completely unable to resist.

"Jagger, your entire security detail has been neutralized. Top to bottom. No one's getting in from outside, and everyone you could call on has been disarmed. You're out of options."

Jagger's expression finally cracked. His eyes narrowed as he stared coldly at Black Claws and Eleanor. Then, in one swift motion, he pulled a handgun from inside his suit jacket and aimed it at Eleanor, who was closest to him.

"Don't come any closer. One more step and I shoot."

Raymond's pupils constricted sharply. His instinct was to throw himself in front of Eleanor.

But Eleanor moved faster. She drew the knife from her waist in one fluid motion and flicked her wrist. The blade flashed through the air like a streak of silver light, striking Jagger's gun hand with perfect precision.

"Ahhh!!" Jagger screamed. The gun clattered to the floor. Crimson blood poured from the gash on his wrist, staining his entire hand red. He stumbled backward, clutching his injury, only to be seized from behind by two tactical officers who slammed him to the ground.

Eleanor walked forward, bent down, and picked up the fallen weapon. She ejected the magazine, then tossed the empty gun into the corner. Then she crouched beside Jagger, pinned to the floor, and looked at him with eyes as cold as death itself.

"I told you. It's time to settle accounts."

Jagger was taken away.

Arrested alongside him were members of his core research team—including several pharmaceutical crime specialists who'd been internationally wanted for years.

Every SKTrelin sample in the estate's underground laboratory was seized and destroyed. Black Claws personally supervised the process, ensuring every vial was shattered beyond recovery, leaving no possibility of resurgence.

By dawn, the entire estate had been cleared.

Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the main building's grand hall, illuminating every speck of dust with merciless clarity.

This estate, once the largest hub in SKTrelin's supply chain, now stood silent as a tomb.

Eleanor didn't participate in the cleanup operations.

She sat on the steps outside the estate's entrance, watching the sky gradually brighten, feeling the tension that had gripped her for so long finally begin to ease.

Raymond came and sat beside her without a word, simply taking her hand in his.

He felt the cold sweat coating her palm, her fingertips still chilled.

"How's Joseph doing now?" he asked softly.

"Black Claws already transferred him to the medical wing at headquarters. Pearl's personally overseeing his care. He's very weak—severely malnourished, multiple old injuries that never healed properly. But the biggest concern is his lung function. Being confined in that damp basement for so long caused a serious respiratory infection. He'll need hospitalization for at least three months. But overall, he's not in life-threatening danger."

"That's good."

Raymond squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Once Joseph recovers, we can bring him to stay at Crestview Estates. The air quality there is excellent—perfect for an elderly person's recuperation."

Eleanor nodded gently.

But in the next moment, Raymond stood and knelt on one knee before her.

He drew a small velvet ring box from inside his suit jacket and opened it carefully.

Inside lay an exquisitely designed diamond ring. The stone caught the sunlight and scattered brilliant light, but the band itself bore no excessive ornamentation—only their two names.

"I've had this ring ready for a long time. Since the day I told you I'd take responsibility for you, I've been ready."

"Eleanor, I don't want to marry you because you saved my grandmother. I don't want to marry you because of some arrangement between our families. I'm kneeling here because you are the only person in this world I want to spend the rest of my life with. Everything about you—I love all of it."

"So Eleanor, will you marry me?"