Gordon Lennon noticed Addison approaching the car and promptly opened the door for her without giving Michael a second glance. "I'll head off now," Addison said softly, grasping the car door, eager to review the contract and discern Lance's intentions. Michael stepped back respectfully, nodding. "If I come up with any solutions, I'll let you know." Addison got into the car, and as Gordon ignited the engine, they drove away from the Fuller Residence. Michael remained stationary, watching the sleek, black Maybach disappear, his expression mixed. Behind him, a familiar voice inquired, "Mikey, why didn't you escort Ms. Daves?" Turning, Michael saw Annie approaching, a servant closely in tow, who fretted, "Madam, it's chilly outside, please wear a shawl!" He quickly fetched a wool shawl, approaching with concern, "Grandma, it's too cold for you to be out here without a shawl." Ignoring Michael's concern initially, Annie pressed, "Why didn't you accompany Ms. Daves? It's unsafe for a woman to travel alone so late." "She had someone to pick her up," Michael reassured her, his brow furrowed. "You should focus on staying warm, Grandma." Annie relaxed somewhat at his reassurance, "If someone's picking her up, then I'm relieved." "Good, now please put this shawl on, and let's head back inside," Michael suggested, draping the shawl around her shoulders. However, before the shawl settled properly, Annie's expression shifted, "Who's picking up Ms. Daves? Lance?" Annie had previously discussed Addison's situation with Mrs. Daves, who was pleased to hear of her impending divorce from Lance and had asked to be kept informed. "Is it possible Addison has reconsidered?" Annie pondered aloud, unsure how to relay this to Mrs. Daves. "Addison is still Lance's wife. Isn't it normal for him to pick her up?" Michael replied nonchalantly, adjusting the shawl on her. "It's not normal at all!" Annie protested, clearly agitated. "Don't you realize, Lance and Addison ... ""I'm aware they are divorced," Michael interjected, urging her towards the house, "Let's go inside. It's time for bed." "But how do you know about Ms. Daves and their divorce?" Annie continued, her voice loud as she was half-guided, half-led back inside by Michael, still looking back, "And their divorce isn't final yet. Did Ms. Daves tell you?" "You don't need to worry about that," Michael said as he and Annie entered the house. He shut the door behind them and signaled to the servant waiting inside. The servant promptly stepped up, closed the door firmly, and stood guard, ensuring Annie did not venture back out. Michael watched this, then started toward the stairs. "Hey, Mikey, where are you going? I haven't finished speaking yet!" Annie called out, grasping his arm. "What else is there to talk about? Grandma, shouldn't you be heading to bed? It's quite late," Michael responded, the fatigue evident in his voice. The recent financial troubles had plunged the entire ApexMed Group into crisis, and Michael had been working tirelessly for several nights to stabilize the situation. This financial turmoil was not just about Addison; it was closely tied to ApexMed as well. He could not leave all the problem-solving to Addison; he too had to actively seek solutions, leaving little time for lengthy discussions with his grandmother. "Just one more thing," Annie persisted, pulling him towards the sofa. "Mikey, do you know who Ms. Daves really is?" Reluctantly, Michael sat down, massaging the bridge of his nose, "I don't know," he replied, clearly uninterested in delving into Addison's background. "I thought as much! Let me tell you, Ms. Daves's background is something our family can hardly match. Even if, by some miracle, our family were to align with her, it would be a steep climb," Annie explained earnestly, looking intently at Michael. Seeing his previously indifferent expression change, Annie added, "If you're considering a relationship with Ms. Daves, I'd advise you to think twice ... " Michael's casual demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of surprise. He had suspected Addison's background was significant, but Annie's words implied it was even more prestigious than he had imagined. After a moment's reflection, he stood up, "I understand," and headed upstairs. Reaching his desk, Michael sat down before a pile of documents. As the hours ticked by, he hadn't turned a single page; his mind was clearly elsewhere. ... Meanwhile, Addison sat in the back of the car under the bright interior lights, meticulously going through the contract page by page. Thanks to Gordon's exceptional driving skills, honed over years as a special forces operator often navigating rugged terrains, the ride was remarkably smooth. As she continued reading, nothing significant jumped out at her. Addison's brow furrowed in concentration. "It's not right, right? How could it just be a normal contract?" Addison re-read the document, yet found nothing unusual. However, if it was indeed a standard contract, why was Lance so insistent that the Fullers sign it? This puzzled Addison. "Ms. Daves, we've arrived." Gordon's voice pulled her back to the present. Looking up, Addison realized they had reached the entrance to Pendomium Heights. With a furrowed brow, she exited the car. She had barely taken two steps when she remembered she had instructions for Gordon. Quickly turning, "Tomorrow morning, you don't need to ... " However, Gordon had already driven off. Addison pressed a hand to her forehead. Gordon, though an excellent bodyguard, had a very distinct personality and was not much for conversation. Whenever Addison gave him instructions, he would respond with actions rather than words. Through their brief interactions over several days, Addison had come to understand his character well. Simply put, if something could be accomplished through actions, Gordon would not bother with excess dialogue. His promptness and efficiency in executing tasks were traits that resonated with her, which was precisely why Addison continued to employ him. At the empty driveway, she sighed and headed inside the villa. After freshening up, Addison sat on her bed, reconsidering the contract. Change of perspective was needed when one path proved fruitless, a strategy Addison often employed. Revisiting the contract with this new mindset, she focused on the partnership it outlined between the Fullers and the Johnstons for developing a new drug. Then, it struck her as she reviewed the ingredients list. The ingredients were nearly identical to those in Levosulin! With Levosulin's patent expiring and Raven controlling the authorization, Lance had chosen a risky path by planning to replicate the drug. Shaking her head at Lance's audacity, Addison grabbed her phone and dialed his number. He answered immediately, "Still awake at this hour?" Her response, edged with sarcasm, "Mr. Johnston, you're up late too, aren't you?" A brief silence followed, suggesting that her tone had hit a nerve. Then, almost simultaneously, both of them said, "Shall we talk?" This echoed coincidence left them both a bit surprised.