Deanna let out a weary sigh.
"After your grandfather woke up, he was finally starting to recover. But once he heard about your uncle''stest stunt, he got all worked up again. The doctor says he can''t take any more shocks, or things could get much worse."
Victor pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Doriany in the massive bed, surrounded by medical equipment—heart monitor, venttor, even a full set of surgical tools nearby. In the adjoining room, five top specialists stood ready for any emergency.
Nearly eighty, Dorian''s hair was thin and white, but even now, the aura of his younger, legendary self lingered on his face.
At the sound of the door, he opened his eyes slowly.
A nurse hurried over, raising the head of the bed so he could see better.
Dorian''s gaze was still sharp as ever. He fixed it on Victor, his voice old yetmanding: “How did things go in Europe?"
"No issues," Victor replied coolly.
"Your uncle Farrar... he''s not going to give up so easily," Dorian rasped. "He''s waiting for me to fall, hoping for aeback. If I hadn''t gone soft and spared him years ago, we wouldn''t be in this mess now..."
He''d barely finished the sentence before a fit of coughing wracked his frail body.
A nurse stepped forward to help him take a sip of water.
Farrar had spent thest twenty years building a new conglomerate in Europe-a criminal empire, really, with more than half his fortuneing from the underworld. Ruthless didn''t begin to cover it.
Now, Farrar was out for revenge, dealing the Fitzgerald Group a brutal blow to settle old scores.
Victor didn''t even look up, his voice cold as ice. "Don''t worry. I won''t let the Fitzgerald Group go under."
He paused for a moment, a wry smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.
"But you''d better take care of yourself, old man. If you''re gone, there''s no telling what''ll be of the Fitzgerald Group."
"You little brat!" Dorian snapped, though a faint trace of pride glimmered in his tired eyes.
Dorian remembered how Victor, back in his days at Oxford, had founded X Capital Ventures and made a name for himself on Wall Street. If Victor hadn''t returned to take the helm, his own business empire might have even eclipsed the Fitzgeralds. Now, Dorian could feel age dragging him down-one foot already in the grave.
"Victor," he said, his voice heavy. "Myst wish is to see the Fitzgerald family and LS Capital Holdings joined by marriage. This year, you and Ms. Lennox should set a date. That way, Farrar won''t dare make another move."
Victor''s eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. He didn''t answer.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a gentle handnded on his shoulder.
He looked up to see Deanna by his side, quietly shaking her head.
After leaving the bedroom, Victor slumped on the living room sofa, looking bored and distant—though it was clear he was irritated. He crossed his legs and reached for a teacup on the table, taking a slow sip.
Deanna''s taste in tea was legendary. Only the finest leaves and the most exquisite porcin would do.
Victor set the cup down with little care, his gaze cool as he nced at the maid preparing the next pot. "It''s too bitter."
Anyone trusted to brew tea for the Fitzgeralds was an expert, and the maid''s hands shook nervously at the criticism.
"I''m so sorry, sir. I''ll make a fresh pot right away."
Deanna, watching from the side, knew bitterness wasn''t the problem. It was Victor''s quiet anger toward her.
But she couldn''t avoid the conversation any longer.
"Victor, darling, the doctors say your grandfather is very fragile he could pass away at any time."
"His final wish is for you to marry into the Lennox family and protect the Fitzgerald Group. That''s the only way he can rest in peace."
"I know you never really acknowledged the engagement in your heart, but only a strong alliance will keep our family at the top."
Victor let out a short, humorlessugh. "Is that so?"
Deanna held his gaze, her tone gentle but firm. "You''re the Fitzgerald family''s sole heir, Victor. You can''t afford to be reckless anymore."