<h4>Chapter 366: My mother’s surname was Santiagos’</h4>


    ~Next Moring~


    The morning started on a peaceful note. Having retired to bed just in the early hours of the morning, Jessica was so tired that she slept in.


    With several official matters waiting to be attended to, Davis left early in the morning for thepany.


    With Santiago’s family banquet scheduled for the evening and his trip for the business summit confirmed, time at this moment was of the essence.


    Deborah tapped the door lightly, pushed it open and entered. A nce at the clock showed some minutes past the hour of 9 a.m. but Jessica was still fast asleep; she sighed.


    She had always known her to be a light sleeper that sometimes she wondered if she really slept, unlike today that even after she drew the curtains letting in the rays of light she never stirred.


    She wanted to leave the room and allow her to continue her sleep and wake up naturally, but just as she took a step to leave the room, Jessica’s rm red through the silence of the room.


    Deborah halted briefly and waited for her to wake up, but she only stirred andid back down, adjusting into a morefortable position. Watching her actions, a light smile crept up her lips.


    She walked over to the position of the phone intending to dismiss the rm, but a note popped up as the rm began ring again: "Meeting."


    Deborah sighed. For her to set an rm, it seemed it was an important meeting. She patted her softly, "Wake up, wake up."


    Jessica’s eyes fluttered lightly as she slowly opened them, her gaze unfocused as she nced around the room.


    Deborah straightened up, standing quietly by the side. Jessica closed her eyes and opened them again; she slowly sat up.


    Looking at the bright light spilling through the window, she rubbed her brow. "Good morning," she greeted.


    Deborah brought her footwear closer. "Your rm had been ringing non-stop."


    "Oh no! I overslept." In a hurry, she left the bed darting into the bathroom for a quick bath while Deborah quietly left the room and descended downstairs.


    She went into the kitchen, reheated the already prepared breakfast and carried it upstairs. With a push of the door, she stepped into the room.


    Jessica was already dressed in baggy jeans and polo; a long overcoatid on the side of the bed.


    Deborah walked over to the window side, having a lounge chair and table before it. She set down the tray in her hand. "Breakfast is ready."


    Jessica nced her way as she gathered her important items into a crossbody sling bagying on the bed.


    "Deborah," she called "can I eat when I get back?" she asked without stopping what she was doing.


    "Ma’am, your body can’t bear it," she responded, her voice calm and t—a familiar voice of hers that Jessica had always interpreted in three words: don’t bother pleading.


    Yet she made an effort to exin, hoping she would understand her. "Deborah, I have an appointment and am already runningte."


    "Having breakfast won’t take much of your time, or I can pack it up for you to eat in the car," Deborah offered.


    With no option to counter her, Jessica dragged herself over to the lounge chair, settled down, and she dived into her meals.


    Silently she med Davis for keeping her awake tillte and hoping Julian wouldn’t be disappointed.


    While she ate, her phone buzzed with an iing call. With one hand, she slid across the screen, and Davis’ voice filtered through the phone. "Are you awake?"


    She pouted her lips. "Yes, but I am now runningte for an appointment. It’s all your fault."


    Davis chuckled. "Baby, do you also have to me me for waking upte?" he asked, amused.


    "Otherwise who? Isn’t it your fault I went to bedte?" she retorted.


    "Don’t worry, I will make it up to you."


    Jessica’s eyes narrowed as her hand paused briefly from scooping up her food. "How do you intend to do it?"


    "Wouldn’t a good time in bed serve the purpose?" he smirked.


    Jessica almost choked on her food. "We are done," she said, and the call ended with a beep.


    Gulping down a cup of water, she dropped her cutlery. She gently dabbed her lips with the setviette, stood up and, slinging on her crossbody sling bag, nced around the room.


    Confirming she was not forgetting anything, she left the room, shutting the door behind her.


    ~Julian’s Home~


    Julian woke up earlier than usual to handle some of the official tasks he had at hand.


    With Maxwell still outside handling the task of getting the gift, he had to handle every other official task.


    He had no intention of dying this crucial meeting just for any official function or duty.


    Just when he was rounding off his work, his phone rang with a message. ncing at it, it was Maxwell.


    He clicked on it, reading through; it was his schedule for the day. But then a note caught his attention: "The Santiagos’ banquet."


    While he was about to call Maxwell, his message came in: "What gift should be prepared for Santiago’s granddaughter?"


    "Santiagos’ granddaughter?" He mused over and over. Though he had instructed a gift to be bought for her, he still felt something off about this granddaughter.


    He would have sought the details of this situation, but the Anderson and Santiagos had always been on the opposite side with no clear reason for their enmity.


    And it seemed rude to interfere in other people’s affairs, but then this nagging feeling couldn’t be stopped.


    He leaned back slightly in his chair, falling into a deep thought.


    A short recollection shing through his mind. "My mother’s surname was Santiagos."


    Is there any possibility that it is this same Santiago’s, or is there any other family of the lower ss bearing the name Santiagos?"


    His phone rang again with Maxwell’s reminder message: "Sir, I am still waiting for your response."


    ncing at the message briefly, "Get her a simple portable gift worthy for a granddaughter’sing home. It doesn’t have to be exclusive, but it still has to show the Anderson sincerity."