“Alice, you can’t leave,” Adrian pleaded, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and desperation.

I lowered my gaze, unable to look into his weary eyes. “I’m sorry for causing this inconvenience to your company.” My voice was barely above a whisper, fragile, yet final. I bowed my head in apology.

His hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach for me but couldn’t. “Did he make you do this?” Adrian asked suddenly, worry flashing in his tired eyes.

I stiffened, my chest tightening. “Who?” I asked, pretending not to understand, my voice carefully neutral.

“Please, Alice.” His tone broke, raw and pleading. “Don’t leave. I’ll sort out the issue with the company. I’ll fix this, just give me time before—”

“Do you know how low the company stocks have dropped?” I interrupted sharply, my control slipping. “Do you know the directors might already be planning to remove you from the CEO seat?”

His lips parted, but no words came. He looked at me as though I had struck him.

I exhaled softly, forcing a small, sad smile. “Thank you, Adrian. But I don’t wish to work again. I’ve already submitted my resignation letter to the HR department.”

Silence fell between us like a heavy curtain. His shoulders slumped.

“…Okay,” he finally nodded weakly. His voice was so faint it barely carried across the space between us.

The stress etched deep lines into his face. The dark circles beneath his eyes spoke of sleepless nights, and his once sharp suit now hung loosely, as though the weight of the entire company had pressed him down. JB was not just struggling—it was crumbling.

And I was part of the reason.

As I walked out of JB Company’s tall glass doors, the cold morning air hit me like a slap. For the first time since I joined, I no longer carried the identity of a designer within its walls.

The truth sank in with each step. I was no longer part of JB. Worse, I was the reason for its troubles.

My chest ached, my heart twisting painfully. Yet a sigh of relief escaped my lips. At least, I told myself, Adrian would no longer suffer because of me. At least Vincent would let JB go.

The sharp buzz of my phone startled me, dragging me back from the heavy fog of thoughts.

The caller ID flashed across the screen. My heart skipped. The Old Patriarch.

I quickly swiped to answer. “Grandpa,” I greeted, warmth flooding my voice despite my turmoil.

“Seems you’ve forgotten this old man,” he joked, his tone carrying both cheer and sternness.

I smiled faintly. “Oh, Grandpa, how could I ever forget you?”

“Then where are you?” he asked. “There is no one at your mansion.”

“What?” My steps faltered. My grip tightened around the phone. He was… already at Vincent’s mansion?

“Hahaha!” His hearty laughter boomed through the line. “I wonder how surprised you must be.”

My chest tightened.

“Why don’t you come visit me today? That brat grandson of mine said you two would arrive the day after tomorrow. But this old man can’t wait.”

At the mention of Vincent, my body stiffened, my breath catching. My mind spun back to his office earlier, to his hands pinning me, to his lips pressing against mine, cruel and possessive. My skin crawled at the memory.

I forced a calm voice. “Don’t worry, Grandpa. I’ll be there tonight.”

I ended the call, my hands trembling slightly. I couldn’t imagine stepping back into that house… not after everything that had happened. But for Grandpa, I would.

I raised a hand and hailed a cab, the decision was made.

The drive felt endless. When I arrived, the sprawling estate came into view. The Old Patriarch’s mansion, grand and towering, was breathtaking even after all these years. White stone walls gleamed beneath the setting sun, every corner carved with intricate designs that spoke of legacy and power.

The maids lined up to greet me warmly. “Welcome, Madam.”

I nodded in return, offering polite smiles, though inside my chest still felt heavy.

I stepped onto the marble floors, my heels echoing in the vast hall. But then

“Come on, Grandpa, try it on!”

The cheerful voice rang down the corridor. My steps froze. My heart raced as I quietly followed the sound, approaching the slightly ajar door.

I peered inside, my breath catching.

But before I could move further, an all-too-familiar figure blocked my path.

“Ahh, welcome, Mrs. Markson,” the old butler greeted me warmly, bowing slightly.

“Thank you,” I replied softly. My eyes darted past him, scanning the room. The sudden silence told me everything—my presence had been noticed.

“Alice, dear, come over!” The Old Patriarch’s voice boomed happily. “I thought you were arriving in the evening.”

I stepped inside, straightening my posture. My eyes flicked toward the sofa—Vincent sat there, his dark gaze locked onto me, unreadable. Beside him, Lillian, my stepsister, sat with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Both of them looked utterly displeased at my arrival.

I ignored them.

I walked directly to Grandpa, as though they weren’t even in the room.

“Come over,” he waved cheerfully.

I took his hand gently, my voice softening. “Grandpa, how’s your health?”

He waved dismissively, his stern face breaking into a smile. “Still strong. Don’t you see? I’m as agile as ever.”

His silver hair shone beneath the light, his posture still straight despite his age. He carried the weight of authority effortlessly, a man who even time itself bowed to.

“Oh, Sister, you came!” Lillian suddenly stood, her voice overly sweet as she rushed to my side. She grabbed my hand, her smile practiced.

I brushed her off coolly. “If I don’t come, who else will?” I replied flatly.

Her smile twitched. But she quickly recovered. “Sister, I heard you stopped working at JB Company,” she said with a sly smirk, her words deliberately loud.

The Old Patriarch stiffened. His eyes widened. “JB Company?” he muttered, turning sharply to me.

Vincent sat silent, offering no explanation.

“Yes, Grandpa,” I admitted softly, lifting my chin.

“Why?” His brows furrowed. “Is KNT not treating you well? Is Vincent ignoring you?” His voice carried concern, sharp and protective.

I smiled faintly, squeezing his hand. “Don’t worry, Grandpa.” I said nothing more.

The Old Patriarch’s expression darkened. He turned, jabbing a finger toward Vincent. “You vile son of mine!” he barked angrily.

Vincent leaned back casually, his voice calm, dismissive. “She can do whatever she wants.”

I glared at him, anger burning in my chest. “If I could truly do whatever I wanted, do you think I would still be here?”

“Grandpa, I have something to prepare for you,” I said quickly, trying to change the subject.

“I’ll do it,” Lillian spoke up at the same time, her lips curving into a sweet smile.

The Old Patriarch chuckled heartily. “So both sisters want to prepare something for me? What a lucky old man I am.”

Vincent’s gaze shifted to Lillian. “You’ve been feeling sick lately. Rest. Let Alice prepare the dish.”

“Hmmm,” I scoffed quietly under my breath, biting back the words I wanted to throw at him.

Grandpa, sensing the rising tension, cleared his throat. “No need. I’m feeling a bit sleepy anyway.” He patted my hand.

“Let me help you,” I said quickly, rising. I moved behind him, gently pushing his wheelchair, guiding him away.

Before leaving, I turned my head, meeting Vincent’s gaze. His fist was clenched tightly, his jaw taut.

Behind me, Lillian’s soft voice floated across the room. “Brother Vincent, let’s go out to eat.”

But his voice was cold, dismissive. “I’m busy. You can go alone.”

With that, he stood and walked out, leaving her fuming silently.

And I left the room with Grandpa, the heavy storm of Vincent’s gaze still lingering against my back.