Soon, Stan arrived at the CEO‘s office with Whitney Cox.
Diarmuid was standing beside his desk, having taken off his jacket and carelessly thrown it over his chair, and he slowly turned toward her.
Whitney appeared prim and proper as ever, and asked mildly, “Sorry for the sudden visit. Am I imposing?”
Diarmuid did not catch her red–handed or ask anything afterwards, so he flatly said, “No.”
He was not going to marry her, and her purity was of no concern now.
Whitney hesitated for a while, and began, “Well… …” She seemed to have trouble putting words together, so Diarmuid suggested, “Need money?”
Whitney was taken aback–how did he know?
Nonetheless, Diarmuid did not waste his breath and cut to the chase. “How much do you need?”
Whitney fumbled for an explanation. “My father is ill…”
“A million? Ten million?” Diarmuid snapped, not wanting to hear her reason.
She knew very well why she needed the money, and he was not bothered to find out!
Whitney actually felt that Diarmuid was not as gentle as before, but could not find a reason for his strange behavior.
She thought herself flawless whenever she was around Diarmuid, but she was desperate right now and needed the money.
Chad had eventually agreed to break up with her if she could return his money, but only gave her 24 hours. In fact, he had only agreed to it because he was convinced she could not get the money within that period.
“I‘ll do my best to repay you…”
“You don‘t have to. Now, tell me how much do you want?” Diarmuid asked, losing his patience already –he did not think so before, but now he found her so fake!
Naturally, he was really upset.
Why did he have to sleep with her?!
“Four million,” Whitney said, deciding to deal with Chad for now, before salvaging Diarmuid‘s impression of her.
Diarmuid made the call. “Take Ms. Cox to Finance. Transfer five million dollars to her account.”
“Diarmuid…” Whitney began.
Diarmuid looked up at her then. There was cold disdain in his eyes that sent chills up one‘s spine, and it cut Whitney short.
Diarmuid’s secretary entered just then and beckoned. “Please come with me.”
Whitney bit her lip, but lowered her head and followed the secretary out of the room.
It was only then that Stan gingerly approached Diarmuid.
He connected Diarmuid‘s dramatic change of attitude toward Whitney with Diarmuid‘s orders to reinvestigate the incident at Charity Hospital.
“Do you suspect that Whitney isn‘t the woman you were with that night?” he asked.
Diarmuid loosened his collar indignantly and snorted coldly out of his chest.
He vividly remembered that the woman with him that night was so inexperienced.
On the other hand, Whitney had a boyfriend, and after seeing how intimate they had been, it was obvious they had done it before.
“The cameras were sabotaged that night so we lack definitive evidence, making it likely for a mistake. I‘ll check again… But it would have been ideal if you‘d given her a token or something…” Stan said, heading off to the hospital while not forgetting to complain.
“Wait…”
Diarmuid suddenly called out to him. “Never mind.”
Now that he had calmed down and thought about it, would a woman who spread her legs under those circumstances be a woman of virtue?
Desiring her to be saint when she offered her virtue on a whim?
He was asking for too much.
Still, none of it meant a thing to him now!
Whoever that woman was, he no longer felt butterflies in his stomach for her.
Stan naturally did not understand his sudden change in mood, and asked in curiosity, “Did Ms. Cox upset you?”
Diarmuid looked up then. His pupils seemed glazed over by pure, icy darkness. Cowed immediately , Stan said, “I‘ll get back to work if there‘s nothing else?”
With that, he swiftly retreated from Diarmuid‘s office as if the devil was on his heels.
Once he closed the door behind him, barring the office from all the noise outside, the room turned silent right then.
Diarmuid sat in his chair, holding a hand over his forehead and rubbing it firmly, finally calming down then.
He stopped Stan from making queries at Charity Hospital because he did not care about that night anymore.
He now had no interest in that woman at all – it had all just been an accident!
She was not worth his heart or sentiment!
Someone suddenly knocked on his office door, and he growled, “Come in.”
His secretary entered. “Ms. Cox lelt after receiving the money,” she reported. “Also, Mr. Wickers from Dorime Pharmaceuticals called–he‘s asking when you‘ll arrive at Blue Bridge.”
It was only then that Diarmuid remembered his prior appointment.
Dorime Pharmaceuticals was developing a medicine to fight cancer, but they lacked the capital, and Mr. Wickers made an appointment with Diarmuid to discuss the prospect of an investment.
Diarmuid had agreed to it because he could see the potential in the project, the whole world was giving all they could in cancer research, because they knew the market value of a successful anti–cancer drug.
Money matters not when life is at stake, which is why financial conglomerates can always be found pulling the strings of every major pharmaceutical research organization.
After all, they would want to build a monopoly over the supply once success is at hand.
Diarmuid naturally wanted a piece of the pie as well, because he could see the immense returns and was reluctant for any foreign financial giants to monopolize the market.
He was no saint of justice – he was a businessman , and for him, profits came before humanity.
The reason he had asked Abigail to be there as well was because she was a doctor and would know about the field, while he lacked any knowledge in pharmaceuticals.
However, the plan was cut short because of Whitney… and now that he thought about it, he had really lost his cool there.
“Tell him that something came up. Set another appointment for him.”
Yes, Mr. Althoff,” the secretary replied and left his office.
Meanwhile, Abigail was still not returning to her mansion. Since she was also jobless, she visited her mother, who was recovering well but still needed more time to get better.
She had just received money from Lionel, but she would only be throwing it down the drain if she did not get a job –after all, how long would it sustain her and her mother?
Over the years, Abigail did not have much savings because she had been footing her mother‘s medical bills.
Nonetheless, now that her career as a doctor was over, she had to work another job. Her dream as a military doctor was also delayed -not abandoned, even if she was forced to concede it because of her life at the moment.
She would become a doctor again if she had the chance.
Eventually, she left the hospital and took a taxi back to the mansion.
“Mrs. Althoff, are you ill? You look pale,” Mrs. Watson said in concern as she entered.
Abigail shook her head. “I‘m fine.”
As she entered after changing into loafers , Mrs. Watson pressed on, asking, “Don‘t you have work today?”
After all, Abigail had always been busy, and often took night shifts.
Abigail‘s heart skipped a beat and looked up at Mrs. Watson.
It was true-she was supposed to be at work, but…
Repressing her bitterness, Abigail steeled herself and smiled. “I took a few days off. The chief approved my leave already.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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