Lance furrowed his eyebrows as he said in disbelief, "You're lying." Lying? Addison arched a brow at his accusation. She almost laughed out of sheer exasperation. "Why should I lie?" she answered sharply, "You Johnstons people have always operated this way, right? So I don't have to lie." She had no expectations for the Johnstons anymore. Her words hit a nerve. Lance's face darkened, his voice rising as he echoed her accusation. "What do you mean by my family has always operated this way?" Addison shot back, her gaze unwavering, "Quick to judge, never bothering to see the truth. Isn't that the Johnstons' signature move?" Her eyes locked onto his with unflinching defiance and spoke loudly, "Oh, wait. Let me correct myself. It's not just the Johnstons. It's you, Lance. You've never cared about the truth. You only see things the way you want to, marching to the beat of your arrogance." Her voice rang out, each word sharp and deliberate, echoing in the vast, empty room like stones falling into a silent pond. "Arrogant?" Lance murmured, his hand reaching up to adjust his tie with an air of restless agitation. "You're the first person who's ever dared to describe me like that." "Really ... " However, Addison snapped before he could finish, "Lance, spare me your lectures. I have no interest in anything you have to say. Please leave." Addison immediately dismissed him. Lance didn't believe what he heard. In his mind, she still harbored feelings for him and still clung to some shred of attachment to the Johnstons. Their communications stuck as long as he held onto those delusions. Two fundamentally opposed persons could never find common ground. Sure, solving the Fullers' financial crisis would be easier with Lance's help as his intervention could stabilize their broken cash flow in no time. However, if he was unwilling to help, she could think of another way. Lance was not indispensable. His piercing gaze felt like ice against her skin. The tension in his jaw was visible as he yanked off his tie and discarded it carelessly. She is not interested in anything I say?! She has some nerve! A cold fury churned in his chest, simmering back to life. The audacity of this woman had reignited it. She was no longer the gentle, accommodating version of herself he once knew. Now, she openly insulted the Johnstons, threw venomous words at him, and pushed every limit he had. Where had the sweet, dutiful wife gone?Addison, oblivious to the storm brewing in him, turned on her heel to leave the living room. She had said her piece, and she had no intention of lingering in the same space as him any longer. Lance's eyes burned as he watched her walk away. She dares to walk away after saying something so unforgivable?! The fire in Lance's chest, which had mysteriously re-ignited, burned hotter with every passing second. His brows knit tightly as his instincts took over, and he reached out to grab Addison. Unexpectedly, just as his hand extended, another unyielding arm clamped down on his wrist. The grip was so firm that even Lance, a man who prided himself on his years of fitness, couldn't budge. The muscles beneath the plain fabric of Gordon's clothes flexed subtly, their taut contours becoming more pronounced as he restrained Lance. Startled, Lance's gaze snapped upward to meet an expressionless face. ... It was the bodyguard Addison had mentioned; a man with a background in special forces. Their arms were locked in a silent battle of strength. Gordon's grip didn't waver, nor did he seem to exert any visible effort. His calm, unblinking eyes only heightened the suffocating tension in the air. Meanwhile, Addison was oblivious to the escalating confrontation behind her as she was lost in thought. She was already formulating alternative solutions to the Fullers' financial troubles, her mind busy strategizing as she climbed the staircase. Lance's jaw clenched as he watched her retreating figure. He broke free from the bodyguard's iron grip with a sharp twist of his body and a surge of strength. Then, he stormed toward the stairs. Unfortunately, before he could ascend, Gordon moved with uncanny speed, stepping in front of him to block his path. Lance abruptly came to a halt, forcing him to reconsider his actions. His piercing eyes studied the man who stood in his way. Gordon towered over him, standing around six feet tall. The simple, loose clothing he wore did nothing to diminish his commanding presence. On the contrary, the fitted T-shirt beneath revealed the lean, powerful frame of a soldier. Even his neck showed defined muscle lines. ... The sheer audacity of this bodyguard who was obviously from a special forces background left him simmering with impotent rage.His hand tightened around his discarded tie, and with a sharp motion, he flung it to the floor. The vivid red tie landed against the pristine white tiles, striking a sharp contrast. Its crumpled state also showed his frustration just now. For a moment, Lance's gaze lifted to the staircase. Addison had disappeared. Fine. Very well. Suppressing his anger, Lance grabbed his suit from where it hung. After that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the mansion. Gordon watched as Lance stormed out of the villa. True to his duty, he followed the man at a measured distance, his gaze steady as he ensured Lance had left the mansion. Lance got into the car parked at the entrance and stretched out his hand to close the door. The door slammed shut with a deafening thud, the force betraying his simmering anger. Moments later, the car roared to life, its engine growling like a beast unleashed, and it sped away, leaving a trail of tension in its wake. Gordon stood by the gate, watching the vehicle disappear into the distance. Only after twenty minutes, when he was certain Lance had gone for good, did he turn and walk back toward the mansion. Stopping at the entrance, he straightened his posture, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. He stood at attention, silent and composed, his expression unreadable. He wouldn't step foot inside uninvited without Addison's explicit instructions. ... Lance's car roared through the quiet streets, the accelerator pressed on its limits, until he finally stopped at the gates of the Johnston Residence. This building was built far from the bustling city because of his grandfather's pursuit of tranquility. Now the city lights had faded, replaced by the soft veil of early morning mist. The Johnston Residence was surrounded by serene greenery. The hush of dawn wrapped the estate in an almost sacred stillness, interrupted only by the gentle rustling of wind through the trees. Stepping out of the car, Lance's sharp eyes took in the brightly lit estate before him. Addison's words suddenly echoed in his head, "You Johnstons people have always like this ... " Then, the image of her at the Johnstons' banquet, where her dignity were stripped away as she was coldly cast out, was replayed in his head as if he was watching the movie. Her furrowed brow and the pain lingering in her gaze replayed vividly, like a cruel montage. Lance's brows knit tighter, and his irritation churned anew. A vein pulsed on his temple, a testament to the frustration that wouldn't leave him. Unable to bear the oppressive flood of emotions, he slid back into the driver's seat, slammed the door, and gunned the engine, speeding away from the estate once more. Meanwhile, back at the mansion, Addison had ascended the stairs and settled at her desk. Her mind was laser-focused as she meticulously reviewed the Fullers' financial crisis from start to finish. After organizing her thoughts, she picked up her phone and scrolled to Michael's contact to dial him, "Mr. Fuller, I need access to the Fullers' internal records." "The Fullers' internal records?" Michael's tone carried a mix of curiosity and caution. He was seated at the dining table, sharing breakfast with Annie. Hearing Addison's bold request, he glanced at the elderly woman with a conflicted expression. Annie met his gaze, her sharp eyes reflecting instant understanding. "Is Ms. Daves asking for access to the Fullers' internal records?" she asked, her voice calm but probing. Michael nodded. Those records contained the core of ApexMed's operations, every business model, strategy, and plan meticulously documented. Granting Addison access would mean exposing every vulnerability the Fullers had.