"Ryan Zimmer ... " Lance frowned as he stared at Ryan, repeating the name for confirmation. "Is that your real name?" Ryan nodded. "Yes." Addison, standing nearby, glanced nervously at Lance, who appeared deep in thought. She feared he might try something against Ryan. "Lance, what are you planning? If you don't back off, I won't hesitate to act," she warned. Ryan, still young and inexperienced, was unaware of the complexities and deceit often found in the business world. He couldn't read people well and had no idea who Lance was or what he might do. But Addison knew. She was fully aware of what Lance was capable of and couldn't let Ryan fall into a trap. Lance disregarded Addison's words, speaking slowly and cautiously, "Ryan Zimmer, are you related to the Zimmers in Kreshill?" He studied Ryan's face carefully, watching for any subtle reaction. The Zimmers in Kreshill? Addison was stunned. It sounded so familiar. Addison froze. The name rang a bell. She racked her brain, searching for the connection, and then remembered something Keith had mentioned. The Zimmers in Kreshill were a shadowy family, operating both openly and covertly. They were deeply involved in underground activities and ran secretive organizations. In fact, Addison's bodyguard was recruited from one of their branches in Halton. Shaking her head, Addison dismissed the idea. What was Lance even suggesting? How could Ryan, a simple graduate from a renowned pharmaceutical university, be linked to such a family? Turning to Ryan, she tried to reassure him. "Don't pay attention to Lance." But when their eyes met, the expression on Ryan's face made her hesitate. For a brief moment, doubt crept in. Could it be true? Was Ryan somehow connected to the Zimmers? That seemed impossible. Addison struggled to process the thought. "Are you a member of the Zimmers in Kreshill?" Lance pressed, his tone firm and serious.Ryan smiled faintly. "Does it matter? Whether I am or not, what difference does it make?" Lance frowned, appearing as though he had more to say when his phone began vibrating in his suit pocket. Though the sound was soft, it was clear. Without glancing at the screen, he immediately silenced the call. As he moved to return the device to his pocket, rapid footsteps echoed from outside the lab, soon followed by an urgent, forceful knocking on the door. Addison frowned and directed the bodyguard nearest to her, "Check who's at the door." The door swung open, revealing a man who stumbled in, clearly flustered. His hair was disheveled from rushing, and his glasses sat crooked on his face. He froze, startled by the sight of the room filled with bodyguards, before halting awkwardly. Addison looked up and recognized Isaac. He didn't bother fixing his unruly appearance or taking in the tense atmosphere created by the bodyguards. Instead, he burst out, "Mr. Johnston, something terrible has happened!" The words hung in the air, silencing the room entirely. The only thing left was the faint echo of Isaac's voice. Lance's frown deepened as he looked at Isaac, clearly unimpressed. "Tidy yourself before you speak." He wouldn't tolerate anyone tarnishing the name of Johnston Enterprise. Isaac's voice trembled with urgency. "Mr. Johnston, there's no time ... Mr. Steven is in critical condition! He's undergoing emergency surgery!" Both Lance and Addison were momentarily stunned, their eyes widening. Lance's body swayed slightly before he steadied himself and pressed, "What did you just say?" "Mr. Steven ... He's in trouble!" Isaac's tone was filled with despair, his expression one of helplessness. Lance's sharp gaze shifted, the earlier conversation forgotten entirely. Grabbing his coat, he made for the door, but his path was blocked by a line of bodyguards. Reason gave way to his emotions, and Lance seemed ready to force his way through. Before he could act, Addison quickly intervened and ordered the bodyguards, "Let him pass." She frowned as she pondered Steven's sudden decline. His condition had seemed stable. Why had it deteriorated again?At her command, the bodyguards cleared a path, and Lance wasted no time disappearing through the doorway. Isaac hurried after him, while Addison, unease gnawing at her, followed. "Isaac!" she called out, prompting him to stop and turn. He blinked in surprise as he recognized her. "Ms. Daves? What are you doing here?" There wasn't time for explanations. Addison cut straight to the point. "What's going on with Mr. Steven? Why did his condition worsen so suddenly? "He'd just been discharged, and the doctors said he was improving. What happened?" Addison's face was clouded with concern. "Is Mr. Steven's condition that bad?" Isaac nodded. "The Johnstons' family doctor had previously performed surgery on him. It was a success, and he was treated with top-quality medication. By all accounts, there shouldn't have been any issues. But now, something unexpected has gone wrong." His voice was heavy with sorrow and slightly raspy. "Mr. Steven was rushed into emergency surgery. Whether he makes it through the day depends entirely on the outcome of this surgery." Addison's eyes flickered in alarm as she processed his words. "Is it that serious?" "Yes," Isaac confirmed curtly, clearly eager to catch up with Lance. But as he turned, he realized Lance had already left. The black car's exhaust lingered in the air, a sign that Lance hadn't waited. Stunned, Isaac stood frozen for a moment. Addison noticed and quickly said, "Get in my car." She gestured for her bodyguard to bring it around. Isaac hesitated, waving her off. "It's fine, Ms. Daves. I drove myself," he said, pointing to a vehicle parked by the door. In a rush, taking Addison's car—which he assumed was a taxi—seemed impractical. He didn't have time to wait. But Addison didn't leave room for argument. "My car is faster." Before Isaac could protest further, a sleek, black luxury car pulled up and stopped smoothly in front of her. Isaac's jaw dropped slightly as he stared at the Maybach. He was shocked to see Addison able to afford such an expensive car. Rumors had always suggested she came from a poor background, with no family to support her. He wondered if Lance had gifted her the car. Glancing at his modest vehicle parked nearby, Isaac muttered under his breath, "She's right—her car is faster." The realization stung, and he couldn't help but feel a little foolish. "Hurry up and get in," Addison called from the driver's seat, her tone urgent. Time wasn't on their side, and she was growing impatient. Ryan, standing off to the side, nudged Isaac lightly. "Stop standing there and get in." Ryan chose not to join them, understanding that Addison needed to prioritize the Johnstons' matters. Instead, he stayed behind to manage the lab and ensure the remaining experiments were completed—a practical decision under the circumstances. Snapping out of his daze, Isaac climbed into the car. Addison wasted no time starting the engine, speeding toward the Johnstons' private hospital. They arrived in no time, and Addison hurried up the stairs. Just as she neared the operating room, the doors opened, and a doctor stepped out, wearing a white coat and a blue surgical mask. Lance, clad in a dark coat, approached the doctor with a grim expression. "How is he?" he asked, his voice tense. The doctor removed his mask and sighed, shaking his head. "We did everything we could. Mr. Steven ... won't make it through tonight." Lance stiffened at the news, a tremor running through him. He blinked, his expression unreadable as silence stretched around him. Addison, who had overheard, felt a weight settle in her chest. The anxiety that had propelled her forward seemed to shatter, leaving her steps heavy as she approached the operating room door.