“Mr. Moore, you really should get some rest,” Miguel said, unable to hold back.

“There’s no need,” Austin replied firmly. “Work cannot be delayed.”

Miguel sighed, knowing persuasion was futile. With no choice left, he left the office to carry out his tasks.

The office fell silent again.

Beyond the windows, the glow of city lights shimmered, illuminating Austin’s weary figure.

Elsewhere, Brinley was also buried in relentless work.

Since she had agreed to the one-month assessment period, nearly all her time had been consumed by projects and planning. By day, she moved constantly between Shaw Group and VantagePath Realty, handling the details of the merger and aligning the pace of both teams.

By night, she remained in the office long after others had gone, poring over proposals and dissecting market data, often working into the early morning before finally heading home.

Her determination rubbed off on VantagePath Realty’s employees. Motivated by her energy, they pushed themselves to deliver results within the month.

Though now part of Shaw Group, they carried a collective resolve to prove that VantagePath Realty’s competence rivaled that of Shaw Group.

One evening, as Brinley reviewed a partnership contract in her office, her phone rang suddenly. Miguel’s name flashed on the screen.

“Mrs. Moore, are you free right now?” he asked, sounding urgent.

Brinley’s heart jolted. “What happened?” she asked quickly.

Miguel sounded anxious. “Mr. Moore… His stomach condition has flared up, and he’s in severe pain. I urged him to go to the hospital, but he refused, saying work takes priority…”

Brinley’s grip on her phone tightened. She had been immersed in work for the past two days, her mind packed with schedules and strategies. She had pushed Austin’s health to the back of her mind entirely.

Hearing Miguel’s words sent a surge of guilt through her.

“I’ll be right there,” she said firmly.

She snatched her coat from the back of her chair and rushed out, her footsteps swift and determined.

“Thank you!” Miguel replied with relief.

After ending the call, he turned toward Austin, who was slouched on the sofa and looked perfectly fine. “Mr. Moore, your wife is on her way.”

Austin lazily lifted his eyelids. There wasn’t a trace of pain in his eyes—only a satisfied glint.

He nodded slightly, adjusted his posture to appear weaker, loosened his tie, and revealed the pale skin of his neck. In an instant, he looked every bit like a sick man.

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