After Eleanor left theb, York''s research facility closed down within a year due to funding issues.


    Once Dr. Windsor retired, he spent the past couple of years teaching as a professor at a medical college in Montir.


    A new message popped up from Xavier: "Let''s grab dinner sometime-celebrate a bit."


    Eleanor remembered she still owed him a meal. She replied, "Sure, let''s catch up when we''re both free."


    Thursday arrived before she knew it.


    Eleanor stood by the arrivals gate at the airport, scanning the crowd for that


    familiar figure.


    Momentster, a spry, silver-haired gentleman emerged, pushing his luggage with a steady hand.


    -York, a renowned doctor in the field of neuroscience.


    "Mr. Windsor." Eleanor hurried over, her eyes misting as she approached.


    "Eleanor, you''ve gotten taller! And even more beautiful," York beamed, genuine pride flickering in his gaze.


    Eleanor couldn''t help butugh. "Mr. Windsor, I''m hardly a kid anymore. I stopped growing ages ago!"


    York let out a hearty chuckle. "To me, you''ll always be that little girl trailing after Elliot."


    A young man with a gentle face at York''s side greeted her, "Miss Sutton, hello."


    Eleanor noticed him for the first time and smiled, a bit embarrassed. "Hi, are you Mr. Windsor''s assistant?"


    "Mann. Just graduated this year. I''m working as his assistant now," York exined.


    Eleanor offered him a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, I''m Eleanor."


    "I''ve been following your research for a while. You''re my role model," Mann admitted shyly.


    Eleanor ushered them forward. "The car''s outside. Let''s head back to the city for lunch."


    "Sounds good." York nodded, then turned to her, "I heard you were awarded your doctorate ahead of schedule?"


    Eleanor blinked, surprised. "You heard about that?"


    "I saw it on Ashford Medical University''s website," Mann chimed in.


    York''s eyes glimmered with approval. "If Elliot knew, he''d be so proud of you."


    Inside a private dining room at the restaurant, Eleanor poured tea for York.


    "Mr. Windsor,st time you mentioned runching theb. Did you really mean it?"


    York epted the cup, his gaze distant and thoughtful. "I''m serious. I want to use whatever time I have left to do something meaningful-no regrets."


    Eleanor studied him, curiosity sparking. "And the funding...?"


    "No need to worry about that. We already have apany interested in our research." York tried to reassure her. Thest closure had been a hard blow- mounting costs and ack of faith in neurotech projects had driven investors away halfway through.


    This time, York had worked tirelessly to secure solid backing; without it, he wouldn''t have dared attempt a restart.


    Eleanor understood-she''d thought of that herself.


    After lunch, she made sure York and Mann were settled at the Vesper Joy Hotel, rooms booked for their stay.


    As they exited the restaurant''s private room, they suddenly found themselves face-to-face with guests leaving the suite across the hall.


    Eleanor looked up-andn stepped out.


    His tie was a little loose, giving him an air of effortless sophistication. His eyes swept their way, pausing in surprise before heposed himself and strode over, all courteous professionalism. "Dr. Windsor, good to see you again. May I have a word?"


    Eleanor''s breath caught. How did he know Mr. Windsor?


    York''s expression turned frosty. "Mr. Goodwin, I''ve already declined your proposal."


    Eleanor frowned, turning to York. "Mr. Windsor, let''s go."


    York let out a low, dismissive snort. "Young capitalists-always chasing maximum profit."


    Eleanor looked at him in surprise. "You two have met before?"


    York nodded, still sounding annoyed. "He came to see mest month, offered to fund theb-on the condition that all our patents would belong to Goodwin & Co."


    Mann couldn''t hold back. "Professor Windsor rejected him on the spot. That kind of demand would strangle scientific freedom."


    Eleanor knewn''s tactics too well-using money to control everything, turning research into a meremodity.


    "I''ve always hated being under anyone''s thumb," York muttered.


    She understoodn all too clearly: he thrived on controlling others, but never let himself be controlled-a ssic power yer.


    Relief washed over her. For a moment, she''d fearedn was the mysterious new backer behind Mr. Windsor, but clearly, he hadn''t managed to buy his way in.


    Which meant-Mr. Windsor''s investor was someone else entirely.