Chapter 18:
Brock smiled ominously. “The general mentioned your family’s stock has been teetering lately. If you’d prefer swift ruin, he can arrange that by evening.”
In all of Crolens, Fred couldn’t recall another influential family besides the Morgan family who had a high-ranking general. His eyes widened with anxiety; he wouldn’t risk the Durys’ future on a bluff.
How had someone as insignificant as Rylie gained support from the Morgans, strong enough to humiliate him publicly?
Unable to defy the situation, Fred reluctantly crawled on the ground and shouted, “Rylie, I’m sorry!”
Brock sneered, nudging him harder. “Louder!”
Fred’s reluctant shout filled the sports field, reaching Stacey’s ears from a distance. Witnessing his humiliation, she felt her heart torn apart, tears streaming unchecked.
She struggled to understand how Rylie, who appeared to have lost everything, could enforce such disgrace upon Fred. Did he do this willingly? Did he still secretly care for Rylie, even to this degrading extent?
Overwhelmed, Stacey angrily stormed away.
Observing everything quietly, Rylie felt detached from Fred’s disgrace. Leaving the scene, she approached a sleek luxury car parked nearby.
She had noticed it earlier upon entering the campus. Calmly, she leaned forward, tapping gently on the window. “Mr. Morgan, was it you behind all this?”
The tinted window slowly lowered, revealing Brad, his handsome face partially obscured by shadows, waiting silently inside.
“Yes, that’s correct.” Brad inclined his head slightly, revealing a perfectly sculpted profile.
“I didn’t ask for your assistance, but thanks anyway,” Rylie replied casually, eyeing Brad and mistakenly assuming that he had arrived for medical advice. “You’re looking healthier, though you should keep taking your medications for now. Unfortunately, your current condition is too serious for any immediate procedures.”
According to Rylie’s assessment, medication alone wouldn’t suffice to cure Brad; he’d need delicate nerve repair surgery, a specialty she hadn’t yet fully mastered.
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Brad stared deeply into her eyes and said evenly, “I’m not here because of you. I’m meeting Timothy.”
A wry smile curved Rylie’s lips. “What a small world. He used to be my mentor.”
“A fortunate coincidence,” Brad remarked dryly, extending a folded campus newspaper toward her. “You’re the student he expelled, and this project happens to be my investment.”
Brad hadn’t deliberately sought her out — it truly was coincidental.
Skimming the newspaper briefly, Rylie chuckled lightly. “Just a heads-up, Timothy can’t fulfill your expectations. But feel free to continue funding him if you like wasting money.”
Timothy’s team was exploring cutting-edge medical and artificial intelligence technologies, but all their foundational research depended entirely on Rylie’s contributions. Without her, the project was doomed.
Brad met Rylie’s eyes steadily, seeing the amused skepticism within. He could tell that she spoke the truth; her composure during his intense pain had already proven her resilience and talent.
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