?Chapter 1724:


    The entire secretary’s department had been eavesdropping, every ear strained toward the muffled shouting that had rocked the CEO’s office.


    In all their years here, not a single one of them had ever seen someone—anyone—dare to raise their voice at Ethan. When Emmett finally emerged, his face dark with anger, the space fell into stillness. No one dared to make a sound.


    “ni, who was that?” whispered a newly hired graduate after Emmett left, her eyes wide with curiosity.


    ni leaned closer, lowering her voice. “That was the CEO’s father.”


    Emmett, meanwhile, had other things on his mind. Lately, he’d been dragging Shari from one property viewing to another, fixated on luxurious homes tucked away in the city’s wealthiest districts, each one with a price tag that made his head spin.


    He could afford a few million, maybe even tens of millions, but homes that soared into the hundreds of millions were out of his reach.


    Before retiring, he had held a senior military post. The prestige was high, but the pay had been meager.


    And since his son refused to give him anything, Emmett decided to turn to his daughter-inw.


    Brenna was also rich, after all.


    Emmett already knew where to find her. She worked on the fifty-eighth floor, and he’d spoken to her briefly a few days ago to confirm it.


    At that moment, Brenna was demonstrating thetest smart mechanical prosthetic to N when a sharp knock sounded on the door. Lorna stepped in, her expression tight, as though she was delivering bad news.


    “Mrs. Mitchell, your father-inw is here,” she said.


    Momentster, Emmett walked in. His expression had softened slightly; he might sh with his son, but he didn’t want to argue with his daughter-inw. After all, he was here to ask her for something he wanted.


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    Brenna handed the prosthetic to N. “Go over the design on your own. If anything confuses you, ask Leo.”


    She then turned to Lorna. “Please bring some coffee and fruit.”


    It was Emmett’s first visit to her office, and she intended to treat him with due respect.


    “Emmett, what brings you here?” she asked with her usual calm smile.


    Emmett’s gaze shifted to the prosthetic in N’s hands. He gestured toward it. “May I have a look?”


    N nodded and offered it to him with both hands before quietly slipping out of the room.


    For a moment, Emmett merely turned the device over, feigning interest while he gathered the courage to broach the subject. The craftsmanship of the device was astonishing—the joints flexible, the design meticulous.


    “This is impressive work,” he finally said. “Did you design it yourself, Brenna?”


    Brenna smiled faintly. “Yes. It’s a bionic design. Once attached to a patient’s limb, it moves as naturally as a real hand or foot, giving amputees back the fluidity of motion they’ve lost.”


    “Incredible,” Emmett murmured, examining it more closely. “This could truly change lives.”


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