All afternoon, Ned was in the chairman's office at Harrington & Co. International, going over the preliminary analysis report with his father. The two of them had some differences of opinion on the report, but they were working through them patiently.
"The four target companies differ significantly in innovation capability, debt ratios, and R&D direction. Have the tech team and finance team each send separate people to dig deeper," Jonathan said. He still felt the analysis wasn't thorough enough.
"Understood, Father. I've also asked Archibald to look into any political developments. His father is the top official at the Department of Commerce; he should be able to get some insider information," Ned replied. His instincts matched his father's; something felt off about the market research team's work.
"Alright then. We'll wait for the new findings before moving forward. There's no rushing a deal of this scale. A major acquisition like this rarely wraps up in less than three to five years, especially with political interests involved…" Jonathan rubbed his temples.
"Alright, business is done for now. We've both been so busy lately we haven't had a proper chance to talk." Jonathan set down his pen, looked steadily at his son, then frowned again.
"About Sophie… When you brought her home that day, your mother was furious and upset for a long time. I heard you made her unhappy again last night." Ned lowered his eyes.
"That girl's mother, Sarah, was an old friend of mine. We lost touch with them for twenty years. We only recently learned they were back, but unfortunately Sarah has brain cancer—" Jonathan fixed his gaze on his son and asked directly, "I like Sophie very much. Are you serious about her?"
Ned lifted his eyes, straightened his back, and looked his father squarely in the face. "Of course."
Silence fell over the room again. Jonathan stared at his son, a flicker of unease crossing his heart.
Then, abruptly, Jonathan asked, "How did you two—" He paused, steadied himself, and continued, "You two have never really gotten along! How did this happen? Your mother was convinced you'd end up with Lara."
"I told you, when it comes to matters of the heart, I'll decide for myself," Ned answered simply.
"And her? Does she feel the same way? Are you… actually together now?" Jonathan rubbed his hands together, staring at the floor, clearly burdened with worry.
"Yes. This is the first time in my life I've wanted a woman this much," Ned answered with unshakable certainty. "I will make her fall in love with me with all her heart. Because the woman I want must have only me in her eyes, only me in her heart. Her love for me will only grow deeper and deeper. I will become her entire world."
Hearing his son deliver such an intense, almost searing declaration of love, Jonathan suddenly felt as if a boulder had dropped onto his chest; he could barely breathe.
"And you… do you love her? How much do you love her?" Jonathan asked in a low, hoarse voice.
"Of course I love her. I want her—more than I've ever wanted any woman." Ned's reply was raw, unfiltered, without the slightest pretense.
Jonathan froze. For a long moment he just stared blankly, as if his mind had gone completely empty.
He knew his son too well. Once Ned set his sights on something, he charged forward without hesitation; there was no stopping him.
Then a wave of profound unease crashed over him. In that instant, he saw it clearly: his son's eyes held the gaze of a predator (earnest, focused, absolutely determined to possess his prey).
That unsettling feeling clung to him until the phone on the desk suddenly began to vibrate.
Jonathan snatched it up. Before he could even finish saying "Hello," his eyes widened in shock. He shot to his feet. "I'm coming right now—immediately!" He shoved the phone into his pocket, grabbed the keys to the company car from the desk, and strode toward the door. "Ned, you're coming with me. Sophie's mother took a sudden turn for the worse. She's been rushed into surgery. They've already issued a critical condition notice. We have to go—now. She's at the university hospital."
Ned was on his feet in a split second, taking the keys from his father's hand. "I'll drive. You try to calm down in the car. You have a heart condition, remember?"
Without another word, the two men hurried to the private elevator, descended to the underground garage, jumped into the executive MPV, and raced toward the university hospital.
On the way, Ned called Sophie. When he learned that Archibald (who had happened to be passing by) was the one who had driven her there, the knot in his chest loosened slightly. Archibald might always act like a carefree playboy, but when it truly mattered, he was the most dependable person Ned knew.
In the waiting area outside Operating Room No. 2, Sophie sat on the icy-cold bench, her face blank and expressionless. The tear tracks on her cheeks had long since dried, leaving her looking like a broken porcelain doll. She clutched and twisted the strap of her backpack in her lap, pitifully, lifting her head every few seconds to stare at the red "In Surgery" light above the door.
Archibald had waited until her breathing steadied a little, then quietly slipped out to the convenience store where they had first met. He bought a towel, bottled water, and a cup of hot cocoa for Sophie.
"Here, drink something warm. The surgery's going to take a long time. You need to keep your strength up," he coaxed gently.
Sophie only shook her head. She couldn't swallow a thing right now; all she could do was pray that her mother would pull through, that the operation would go smoothly.
"Then at least wipe your face. It'll help you stay awake." He handed her the towel he had soaked in hot water in the restroom.
This time she took it and scrubbed at her face haphazardly. Watching her, Archibald felt a sharp pang in his chest. He reached over, gently took the towel from her hands, and began wiping her cheeks himself, carefully smoothing back the strands of hair that had stuck to her tear-streaked skin.
That was the exact moment Ned and his father rushed into the waiting area.
Something strange twisted in Ned's heart when he saw the scene, but he forced it down. The two men strode quickly over to Archibald and immediately asked about Sarah's condition.
"Uncle Jonathan, Ned… here's what I know: the hospital just issued a critical condition notice that had to be signed… The surgery has already been going on for about two hours…" Archibald calmly recounted everything he had learned.