Grant looked down slightly and replied, "She said she''de by once she''s done."


    Presley, hearing this, nodded approvingly. "Good to know, Grant. You never let me down."


    Grant managed a small smile, though inside he felt he had no real choice.


    "Oh, by the way, I have something for you." Presley opened a drawer from his desk, took out a bottle, and ced it on the table. "David''s been under the weather. This should help him."


    Grant''s eyesnded on the bottle. He clenched his fingers, suppressing a wave of distaste, then picked it up, saying as politely as he could, "Thanks for your concern, Presley."


    "No need to thank me; I hope David gets better soon too." Presley''s smile was warm and seemingly genuine.


    Grant avoided looking directly at Presley''s face, replying in a measured tone, "If there''s nothing else, I''ll go wait for Ms. Mirabe."


    "Go ahead." Presley waved him off.


    Once Grant left, Presley pulled out a sheet of paper from the drawer, his lips curling into a smirk as he admired the lively handwriting.


    The allure of a secret form.


    Meanwhile...


    Mirabe was on a call and didn''t bother to keep it from Adler, so he picked up on the gist. He paused his work and looked at her. "If you have urgent things to handle, you can head out first."


    Mirabe slipped her phone back into her pocket, nced at the analysis on herputer screen, and kept typing, "No hurry, I''ll just finish this bit first."


    It was still early anyway.


    "Alright then." Adler didn''t push further.


    Despite the serious nature of her call, he was curious to see the analysis results before making any ns.


    After half an hour, Mirabe clicked save and stood up, gesturing for Adler to take a look. "This is


    part


    of the structural analysis ink


    I''ll


    more about itter."  fo


    Adler nodded, taking theputer.


    Mirabe checked the time and said, "Take your time with it; I''m heading out."


    Adler wanted to get up and see her off, but she stopped him.


    Soon enough, Mirabe left Adler''s ce.


    By the time she reached the pharmaceutical association, it was almost five in the evening.


    After parking her car, she headed towards the entrance and spotted Grant waiting at the security booth.


    "Ms. Mirabe, you''re here." Grant had the security guard swipe a card to open the gate.


    Mirabe nodded politely and walked in, not noticing the turmoil in his eyes.


    As they walked, Grant led the way and apologized, "Sorry you had toe all this way."


    "No worries," Mirabe shrugged it off, unfazed.


    Free medicinal ingredients were a good deal, even if it meant a few trips.


    They reached the elevator, which was on the ground floor. Grant swiped his card, opened the doors, and let Mirabe go in first.


    Mirabe, hands casually in her coat pockets, watched the elevator numbers


    climb. "You said you needed to see me?"


    "Ah, yes," Grant seemed a bit lost in thought. He nced at her,


    hesitated, and then said, "Actually...


    it wasn''t me who needed to see


    you."


    "The president?" she guessed.


    By then, the elevator had reached the third floor. Grant didn''t answer right away; instead, he stepped out, held the door for her, and waited until she exited before letting it close.


    After walking a bit down the hall, they stopped in front of an office door. Grant


    finally turned to Mirabe, "It''s Presley."