Ellen’s POV

I stared out the window as my father and I drove toward the outskirts of town. It had been a long time since I’d left, and I certainly hadn't expected to leave this way. I never anticipated that good-for-nothing lawyer trying to sabotage things.

I took a breath and turned to my father. "Dad," I said, breaking the silence, my voice clear and audible, "what exactly is the situation with the lawyer?"

He sighed deeply, his eyes fixed on the road. "He was caught trying to sneak off the hospital grounds to meet with Kamille. We've increased security, so he won't reach her again. But, surprisingly, the latest report says he's lost his memory."

Relief flickered, quickly replaced by suspicion. "That's great, but if he's lost his memory, who the hell sent a message to Kamille?"

"That's what we're going to find out." His voice was firm, a resolve I knew well.

We drove in silence until we reached an abandoned warehouse. The car died, and we got out. Mr. Finley, Max, and several security personnel followed.

Inside, the air was thick with dust and decay. We reached a dimly lit room where the lawyer was tied to a chair, his head slumped forward, unconscious.

"Wake him up," my father ordered. One of the men splashed water on the lawyer's face, jolting him awake. He blinked rapidly, disoriented, and looked around.

"Where am I?" he croaked, his voice shaky.

"Shut the fuck up," my father snapped, stepping forward. "I'll be asking the questions."

It had come to this—to plug the leaks. The lawyer was a shadow of his former self.

His eyes darted around, finally settling on my father. "Why did you set up a meeting with Kamille?" my father demanded.

The lawyer's face contorted in confusion. He looked between my father and me.

"Who's Kamille?" he replied. His confusion seemed genuine, but I wasn't convinced.

"Don't play games with me," my father growled. "Tell me who set up the meeting."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know who that is," the lawyer insisted, his voice trembling.

I stepped forward, narrowing my eyes. "Then where were you going when you snuck out of the hospital?"

Fear flickered in his eyes. "I woke up there. I wondered how I got there and decided to leave."

Can this not get any fucking better?

I scrutinized his face, searching for deceit. "Do you even remember who you are?" I asked coldly.

He gazed back, his eyes empty. "I'm just a man trying to get money for a law degree."

I found it hard to believe he'd lost his memory. He owned a multi-million-dollar firm. Why would he forget that?

I cursed under my breath and turned to my father. "It seems he has lost his memory."

He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "But we still need precautions. Even if he regains his memory, he won't be able to do much."

I nodded in agreement as my father approached the lawyer. "Listen carefully," he said, his tone authoritative. "If you ever contact Kamille again, I will make sure that's the last anyone ever hears of you."

The lawyer nodded, fear etched on his face. I signaled to a man, whispering instructions. He left and returned with a document. He handed it to me along with a pen.

I approached the lawyer and thrust the document in front of him. "Sign it," I commanded.

His eyes widened as he read it, but he quickly masked his reaction. "What is this?" he asked.

"Since you've lost your memory, what I've written is useless to you. Just sign it," I said icily.

Hesitantly, he signed. I snatched it back and turned. My father was already leaving, so I hurried to catch up.

We got into the car. "Take us to the law firm," Father instructed.

The drive back was silent. When we arrived, we checked that the lawyer's office was locked.

First, we halted all activity at the firm and asserted our presence. We went to the staff room, where the employees were gathered.

Holding up the signed document, I addressed them. "This document states that we've bought this firm. You are now Manor Company employees."

Murmurs of shock rippled through the room, but no one dared object. We installed a CCTV camera in the lawyer's office.

Having secured the firm, we drove back to Manor Company. My father and I sat in his office, smiling in victory.

"Thank you, Father. That was swift," I said, sipping my wine.

"Necessary steps to avoid surprises," Father replied, sipping his wine.

We shared a toast. Father sent the lawyer the money specified in the document. We said we bought the company, but he was essentially paid off.

He leaned back, his eyes on me. "Do you know what would have happened at that meeting?" he asked, suddenly distant and hurt.

I shook my head. "No, Father."

"Kamille's status as a true Manor would have been revealed," he said, his voice tinged with hatred and sadness.

What?!