As soon as she left, Aiden quietly stepped into the room, standing respectfully in front of Dn, his mind racing with thoughts. Those bodyguards were indeed Walter''s, heading back to the Ferguson estate. If Dn didn''t step in, what ra said would definitely reach Walter.


    Aiden was there to gauge Dn''s reaction. He stayed silent, patiently waiting. But even after ten minutes, Dn remained focused on his documents, the sound of his pen scratching against paper filling the room.


    As fifteen minutes ticked by, Aiden tentatively asked, "Sir, should we intervene?"


    Dn paused, his pen still, eyes flickering briefly before he calmly replied, "No need."


    "But..."


    If they didn''t act, Walter would surely make a move. Sometimes, Aiden just couldn''t figure out what Dn was thinking.


    Finally, Dn set his pen down, hearing footsteps approaching, knowing ra was returning. His lips curled slightly. "I want to see what choice she''ll make."


    Aiden didn''t quite understand but chose not to press further.


    When ra entered, she noticed Aiden was there too. She ced the tray beside Dn and meticulously wiped the spoon, offering, "Mr. Dn, I noticed you haven''t eaten much. Please, have a bite."


    Dn looked up, meeting her gaze. ra''s intentions were obvious. Ignoring the food, he picked up his pen again, continuing his work.


    Only Aiden noticed that Dn was reviewing a document he''d already looked over. Meanwhile, the food on the tray grew cold. ra reheated it again and again, repeating this cycle eight times over three hours.


    Finally, at two in the afternoon, Dn put his pen down and took a sip of the soup. It had been reheated so many times that the taste was off, but he seemed


    content, a slight lift in his eyebrows giving him away.


    Aiden could clearly tell Dn was in a good mood. He nced at ra with sympathy; no matter how clever she was, she couldn''t match Dn''s subtle maneuvering.


    Seeing Dn finally eat, ra exhaled in relief, her gaze lingering on the back of his neck before drifting to his wheelchair. A sudden memory shed through her mind, a snippet of her speaking to someone: "He''s dead; why are you still alive?"


    A sharp pain pierced her head, and she instinctively massaged her temples, feeling a heaviness in her chest. Who was this "he"? And to whom was she speaking?


    Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, and even when fragments surfaced, they didn''t connect. After Dn finished eating, she promptly cleared the tray and returned with coffee.


    Aiden stepped back slightly, observing her hustle around. During a meeting, ra stood by Dn''s side, ready to hand him water whenever he reached for it. Dn''s gaze asionallynded on her, only to shift away without much interest.


    ra took a deep breath, sometimes finding Dn hard to please because she never knew what he truly liked. He had everything-status, money, power- making gift-giving a challenge.


    As the meeting concluded, she finally asked, "Mr. Dn, is there any gift you particrly like?"