?Chapter 1667:


    Thinking about it, he believed she wouldn’t like him. He was a Bentley, after all. In the Harper family members’ eyes, every Bentley was bad.


    The elevator chimed and slid open on the fifty-eighth floor. From where he stood, Conor could see the entire office space and employees working in quiet focus.


    Regret welled up in his chest. He shouldn’t havee. What right did he have to ask Brenna for money? Wasn’t it far too shameless? He couldn’t bring himself to do it.


    Before he could press the elevator button to go back, a young woman in a crisp white suit approached, smiling politely. “Mr. Bentley,” she said. “I’m Miss Harper’s secretary. She asked me to wee you. Please,e with me.”


    Conor froze for a moment, then awkwardly withdrew his hand. Stepping out of the elevator, he felt heat creep up his neck. His mind raced—should he still ask Brenna for money? If he did that, she would definitely refuse. And if she turned him down, how humiliating would that be?


    “Is Miss Harper in?” he asked, ncing around. The floor stretched wide—hundreds of square meters divided into gleaming sections that housed about a thousand employees. The decor radiated understated luxury, a striking contrast to his small, unremarkablew firm.


    “Yes, she’s in her office.” The secretary motioned for him to follow and soon ushered him into Brenna’s office.


    Inside, Brenna was on the phone. “That’s wonderful news! You actually found over a thousand Woodham? I’ll take them all. Braeden, please thank them for me.”


    Braeden’s warm voice came through the speaker. “No need to thank me. His men found them while on a mission. You don’t need to pay—just send half of the medicine to the Central Hospital afterward.”


    “All right. Have them delivered directly to the Pierce Clinic. I’ll text you the address,” Brenna said.


    The two chatted briefly about unmannedbat vehicles before ending the call.


    gα?ησν????s??оm, where stories thrive


    Brenna couldn’t help smiling. More than a year ago, a high-ranking officer had offhandedly said he would help her find Woodham. She hadn’t believed him then, but now, he had actually found it.


    Without wasting time, she called Christopher. He picked up quickly; background noise hinted he was at the clinic.


    “Brenna, what’s up?” Christopher’s voice was steady.


    “The military located a batch of Woodham—about a thousand nts,” Brenna said. “You should receive them personally. They’ll arrive at the clinic the day after tomorrow.”


    Christopher’s excitement was instant. “Really? That’s incredible! Usually, finding even one is rare. Brenna, we should keep some for cultivation.”


    Brennaughed softly. “I was thinking the same thing, but Woodham is delicate—it needs very specific growing conditions. If we try to cultivate it ourselves, it probably won’t survive. I’ll contact a botanist and look for a professional to handle the matter properly.”


    “Good idea,” Christopher remarked. Excitement lit his voice; he could hardly wait to see the Woodham nts with his own eyes.


    After the call ended, Brenna stepped into the reception area, where Conor had been waiting.


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