Annie didn't even bat an eye. She lifted her gaze to her grandson sitting across from her, her tone light and casual, "Then give it to Ms. Daves." She spoke as if handing over something utterly trivial. After the words left her lips, she gestured toward the servant standing nearby. "The soup the chef made today is delicious. Bring me another bowl." The servant bowed respectfully and left to fulfill her request. Michael's eyes flickered with a trace of confusion. Frowning, he muted the call he'd been on and turned back to his grandmother. "Grandma, do you think it's wise to hand over such critical information to her? "Giving her the internal data is equivalent to exposing every weakness the Fullers have. If Addison wanted to, she could easily use it to take over the entire Fullers," he said, his tone laced with urgency. Anyone could bring the Fullers down with the flick of a wrist with that data. The family's internal records were a fortress that was never meant to fall into the hands of outsiders. "I just don't think ... " Michael started, but Annie cut him off with a raised hand. "I understand. Do you think I don't know how vital this information is to the Fullers?" Her voice was steady, but the sharpness in her eyes left no room for doubt. "And I'm also well aware that the Fullers' cash flow has dried up. The deal you negotiated with Ms. Daves has fallen through, hasn't it?" she continued, her expression taking on a sardonic edge. After saying that, she set down her spoon and stared directly at Michael. Michael's lips parted slightly in surprise. "How do you know about that?" "You deliberately kept this from me, didn't you?" she asked solemnly. Suddenly, he found himself at a loss for words. "I may be old and frail, unsure of how many days I have left, but I'm not blind. You didn't want me to worry about these matters, thinking it'd add to my burdens. "But as long as I'm still breathing, I remain a part of this family. Your father entrusted ApexMed Group to you because he believes in you. I know you don't want to disappoint him, so you try to shoulder everything alone, proving yourself capable, but you can't carry the entire weight of the Fullers by yourself." He fell silent, his brows furrowed."Ms. Daves is asking for this data because she's trying to help us. She can solve the funding crisis we're facing with that. "If you refuse her, the Fullers will collapse entirely. But if you agree, there's at least a sliver of hope. As the CEO of ApexMed Group, you must think beyond the present and consider the bigger picture." Annie's words hung in the air, heavy with significance. Michael sank into deep thought, his expression unreadable. "Madam, your soup is ready. It's been placed on the table," the servant announced softly, setting down a steaming bowl. "Mm," Annie responded absentmindedly, nodding as she pulled the bowl closer. She picked up the spoon and stirred the soup gently. "Mikey, I won't say much more. After all, you're the one in charge of ApexMed Group. Consider my words as just a suggestion. Whether you decide to hand over the data or not, the choice is entirely yours." Addison waited in growing silence on the other end of the call. Frowning, she glanced at her phone. The screen was fine, and the call was still connected. So why isn't there any response? "Michael, are you still there? Do you hear me?" she called out. There was still no reply. Is my request too abrupt? Perhaps Michael doesn't want to provide me with the Fullers' internal data after all. The thought unsettled her. It wasn't as though her current relationship with the Fullers warranted such trust. No company would casually share its internal data with an outsider, no matter the circumstance. Frustration bubbled up within her. She had acted impulsively, driven by the sting of Lance's recent actions. She had blurted out her request without thinking things through, and now she regretted it deeply. She spoke again, her tone laced with apology, "Mr. Fuller, I'm sorry. My request was out of line." Finally, his voice calm and polite voice came through, just as it always was. "Not at all." Then, to her surprise, he asked, "Would you prefer a physical copy of the data or a digital version? If you need the hard copy, I can deliver it to you right away." Addison's eyelashes fluttered as a wave of disbelief washed over her. She hadn't expected Michael to agree so readily. "Are you willing to give me the data?" she inquired warily. Her objective was not to drag the Fullers down but to help them overcome their funding crisis. Most seasoned businesspeople would guard their secrets fiercely, wary of betrayal. And yet, Michael trusted her that much? Her chest tightened with an emotion she couldn't quite place. "Yes," he replied simply, his tone warm and reassuring. Time was pressing, leaving her no room to probe his motives further. "Then please send me the digital copy via email. There's no need for you to go out of your way." "Understood. I'll send it immediately." By giving Addison the Fullers' internal data, he wasn't just sharing documents. He was entrusting her with the entire Fullers. He could only hope he'd made the right choice. Addison ended the call. Standing up, she scanned the room for her computer. There were computers scattered throughout the mansion because of her habit of reading medical literature at any time or place. Where was the last time I saw it? Perhaps it was downstairs. Quickly deciding, she strode toward the staircase. As she descended, her eyes caught a splash of vivid red on the living room floor below. Her brows knitted in confusion. She quickened her pace, descending the remaining stairs to get a closer look. It was a red necktie. She bent down to pick it up, her fingers brushing over the familiar texture. This is Lance's tie. But why is it lying here on the floor? Shaking off her wandering thoughts, she reminded herself that now wasn't the time to dwell on such trivialities. The task at hand was more pressing. She tossed the tie into the nearby trash can without a second glance. As she strolled past the living room on the first floor and walked towards the study on the side, something flickered in her peripheral vision. A figure. Somebody was standing near the door. Her heart skipped a beat, tension rippling through her. Could it be that someone has exposed my identity? These people come so quickly. Alarm bells blared in her mind. Every muscle in her body tensed as she instinctively reached for the small knife she had stashed by the door for emergencies. She pressed her back against the wall, creeping closer to the shadowy figure, one cautious step at a time.Her grip on the knife tightened, and her senses were on high alert. The moment that person made a move, she was ready to strike without hesitation. However, as she drew nearer, doubt crept into her mind. While she had trained in self-defense under her father as a child, these people, if they were enemies, would undoubtedly be prepared. Charging in headfirst might be reckless. Worse, what if there were more than one of them? Facing them alone could be suicide. She forced herself to calm down. After weighing the risks and benefits, she decided to text Gordon, her trusted ally, and ask for immediate backup. Slowly retreating from the doorway, she pulled out her phone and typed, 'Bring all the bodyguards and come to Pendomium Heights immediately.' She waited, but minutes passed, and her message remained unread. Her anxiety deepened. Gordon always replies quickly. What is going on today? Peeking cautiously around the corner, she saw that the figure at the door hadn't moved an inch. Her pulse raced. Clenching her teeth, she lowered the volume on her phone to its quietest setting and dialed Gordon directly. Please, let him answer. She prayed silently.