She hadn’t asked him to do any of this.


    I


    But he seemed to read her mind and spoke up first. “Mr. Parsons and I <b>have </b>known each other for years. He asked me to look after you.”


    A flight attendant appeared, carrying a tray of tea. Oliver picked up a cup and handed it to her.


    Patricia epted it, offering a polite smile. “Thank you, Mr. Padi. This is just right.”


    Oliver took a sip of water.


    The flight attendant came back, quietly gesturing to see if she could turn down the cabin lights. Oliver nced over at Patricia, silently passing the decision to her, waiting for her nod.


    /* <![CDATA[ */


    fpm_start( "true" );


    /* ]]> */


    Catching on, Patricia gave a small nod in return.


    The main lights dimmed, leaving the cabin bathed in a soft, golden glow.


    In the hush, Oliver’s voice broke the silence. “What’s your n once wend in Toronto?”


    “Rehab,” Patricia answered simply.


    Oliver’s eyes flicked down to her leg. For a moment, his expression softened, something like concern. flickering there before he masked it. He grabbed a folded nket, adjusted it neatly, and draped it across her knees–perfectly covering her, not dragging on the floor, not leaving any gaps.


    His thoughtfulness was almost too much, Patricia couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy.


    Is this just how older men are? she wondered.


    “And after that?” he asked.


    “I’m going home,” she said honestly. He was Atticus’s friend, after all–there was no need to be on guard with someone who’d only tried to help.


    “To reim your parents‘ business?”


    She nodded. “Yeah.”


    Oliver didn’t sugarcoat it. “That’s not going to be easy.<b>” </b>


    Patricia looked down at her cup, swirling the water inside. Her mind felt a little foggy. “Even if it’s hard, there’s always a way.”


    He leaned back slightly. “You ever think about finding yourself some allies?”


    She blinked. “What do you mean?”


    “Emerson knows exactly what you want. That’s why she’s spent all these years building up connections, <b>making </b>sure she’s got people backing her. By the time you get back, the Martins and the Newtons will probably be tied together by marriage. If they join forces, what chance do you really <b>have</b>?”


    He spoke so inly, like he was just talking family business over dinner.


    13:32


    If Colton were here, he’d probably be shocked–Uncle Oliver, handing out advice? Unheard of.


    “Even if the marriage doesn’t happen, once they realize you’re behind all this, they’ll still team up to box you in. You’ll be outnumbered.”


    Patricia turned and studied Oliver carefully.


    Counting her first, slow–to–register encounter, this was only the fourth time they’d met.


    She’d Googled him before–his name was everywhere. Business news<b>, </b>Wikipedia: a corporate giant. Last year, he’d gone head–to–head with a foreign mogul over rarend and came out on top, ruthless and brilliant.


    Now, here he was, calmly talking through her problems like it was no big deal.


    So what did he really want?


    Could it really just be a favor for Atticus?


    Patricia didn’t buy it.


    He seemed like the type who drew clear lines–someone who wouldn’t overstep. Watching her for Atticus was already more than enough. Actually helping her out of this mess? That wasn’t something a power–hungry businessman would do without a reason.


    “So, what’s your suggestion, Mr. Padi?” she asked.


    Oliverced his fingers together, thoughtfully rubbing his thumb along his knuckle. He paused, then finally said, “If you want, Ms. Martin, I can have your back.”


    She met his eyes. “And what do you want in return<b>?</b>”


    His answer was simple. “I need a wife.” <fn27cd> Th?s chapter is updated by find?novel</fn27cd>