Be nced at her watch and said, "Let''s have a meal first. After that, we''ll head out. We might face a tough fight, so it''s best to fight while we''re full."This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    "Ms. Thompson, are you really going alone? Shouldn''t we inform Mr. Salvador so he can keep an eye out for you?" Steven''s brows furrowed slightly because Southern Star Syndicate was more like a den of bandits.


    "I''m not going alone. Aunt Sasha is already there," Be replied casually.


    "But..."


    "Besides, Justin can''te with me. He has other matters to attend to."


    Be''s gaze was sharp. Her slender, elegant figure exuded themanding presence of a strategic leader. "We need to split up to keep Southern Star from falling into chaos."


    In the afternoon, at the VIP ward of the hospital.


    Watson Jenkins, the once formidable figure now with graying hair, sat propped up by the bed, receiving an IV drip. He had thrown up all the lunch he had eaten.


    Ever since Elias'' arrest, Watson''s health has deteriorated rapidly.


    A few days ago, Sasha visited him. The father-daughter duo, who had not seen each other for many years and were not very expressive with their emotions, sat for nearly an hour without speaking.


    It was a heartbreaking disy of childishness that seemed absurd.


    Later, Watson''spanion, Lane, brought them food. Sasha broke the silence first. She helped her father sit up and fed him bite by bite. Thinking of her once heroic andmanding father now unable to eat on his own, Sasha could no longer hold back her tears. "Chairman Jenkins, Ms. Jenkins still loves you," Lane said, holding Watson''s withered hand by the bedside, her voice choking up with tears. She had been with him for half her life. Though she was not the first woman by Watson''s side, she would be thest.


    Without an official title as Watson''s wife, the Southern Star members called her "Ms. Lane", while Sasha referred to her politely as "Aunt Lane".


    "That damn girl... She''s spoiled by that old bastard, Wyatt Thompson, but she seems to be doing well," Watson said, maintaining his stern demeanor, though his eyes became moist.


    "Power and wealth don''t matter


    much. The opinions of others are not even worth considering." Lane''s bright eyes softened with a gentle smile. "What''s important is livingfortably and happily. Even if you don''t think so, Ms. Jenkins is content with her life. Besides, Mr. Thompson is in his sixties and still looks like he''s in his forties. He''s handsome and wealthy, a rare find at his age. Ms. Jenkins really hit the jackpot."


    "Tsk, I''m not even dead yet, and you''re praising another man before me. Aren''t you afraid I''ll lose my temper?" Watson feigned anger.


    "Look at you. At your age..." Lane


    ced his rough hand against her face and gently rubbed it. "Even if Mr. Thompson is wonderful, I still prefer my man. You have the masculinity I admire."


    "Lane, let''s get married."


    Watson suddenly spoke, his usually stern eyes showing rare tenderness. "If you don''t mind me in this state."


    Lane was stunned. Her eyes filled with boundless joy and astonishment.


    "Forget it... It''s toote." Watson


    shook his head with a bitter smile,


    his voice tinged with guilt and regret.


    "I don''t have much time left, and


    you''re still young... You have a long life ahead. Just pretend I never said anything."


    Lane''s eyes welled up with tears of excitement. Just as she was about to respond loudly, a knock sounded on the door.


    "Chairman Jenkins, the Chairman of the Iverson Group, Mr. Christopher Iverson, is here."


    "Who?" Watson''s brows furrowed deeply.


    Christopher, apanied by Taylor, walked in with an inscrutable smile in his dark, probing eyes.