Chapter 561 Give Up
Michael grabbed the phone, his eyes narrowing as he saw the photo of Emma and George hugging in a hospital hallway. His grip tightened instinctively.
"It was just an accident," he muttered.
"An accident?" Zachary scoffed, scrolling through more photos. "What about these? While you were away on business, Emma was with George almost every day."
Photo after photo flashed by: the two of them walking in a garden, George giving Emma water, and even a picture of them kissing in the small garden at the Stuart Villa. Each image felt like a dagger to Michael's heart.
"Enough!" Michael shouted, throwing the phone against the wall, shattering the screen.
Zachary calmly picked up the phone. "What's the matter? Can't handle the truth?" He stepped closer to Michael. "Michael, wake up. Emma never cared about you."
Michael grabbed Zachary by the collar. "What do you know?" His eyes burned with a crazed obsession. "Once she regains her memory and remembers how George treated her..."
"Regain her memory?" Zachary sneered. "You think she'll choose you once she remembers? Don't kid yourself!"
Michael released his grip and turned to the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and downing it in one gulp. "You don't get it. I've waited for so many years."
Zachary looked at Michael with a mix of anger and pity. He snatched the glass from Michael's hand. "Look at yourself! You're destroying yourself over a woman who doesn't love you. Is it worth it?"
"Whether it's worth it or not is for me to decide," Michael said coldly.
Zachary laughed bitterly. "You and your sister are both so stubborn." He pointed to the door. "And what about Celeste? She's been with you for thirteen years, gave you everything, and this is how you treat her?"
Michael's body stiffened, a flash of pain crossing his eyes. "She shouldn't have gotten involved with me."
"Now you want to play the good guy?" Zachary mocked. "What's done is done. Do you think saying these things will change anything?"
Michael suddenly looked up. "How do you know?"
"I'm not blind," Zachary rolled his eyes. "Celeste can barely walk, and her neck is covered in your marks." He stepped closer. "Michael, since you touched her, you should take responsibility."
"Responsibility?" Michael laughed bitterly. "I can't even take responsibility for my own life. How can I take responsibility for her?"
Zachary was about to retort when there was a knock at the office door.
"Come in," Michael said, regaining his usual cold demeanor.
The secretary entered, pausing when she saw Zachary. "Mr. Baker is here too."
"What is it?" Michael asked.
The secretary hesitated, glancing at Zachary. "It's about George's latest activities."
Zachary raised an eyebrow. "Is there something I can't hear?"
Michael waved his hand. "Go ahead."
The secretary continued, "Our people discovered that George has been secretly developing a drug that could help Ms. Stuart regain her memory."
Michael stood up abruptly. "When did this start?"
"It's been going on for a while. They've made some progress but haven't fully succeeded yet," the secretary replied.
A flicker of interest flashed in Zachary's eyes, but he quickly masked it. "Looks like someone’s more dedicated than you."
Michael's face darkened. "Keep monitoring. Report any developments immediately."
"Yes, sir." The secretary nodded and left.
The office fell silent again. Zachary toyed with the broken phone, speaking casually. "Seems like your time is running out."
Michael didn't respond, staring out the window in a daze.
Zachary walked over and patted his shoulder. "Michael, take my advice. Let go." He paused. "Celeste may be foolish, but at least she's sincere."
Michael closed his eyes. "Don't say any more."
Zachary sighed. "Fine, I won't." He turned to leave, giving Michael one last look before exiting. "I hope you don't regret this."
As the door closed, the playful expression on Zachary's face vanished. He quickly walked to the elevator, dialing a number.
When the call connected, he spoke in a low voice. "Cut off all intelligence sources about George's drug development, especially anything related to Emma regaining her memory."
A puzzled voice responded, "Mr. Baker, this goes against our agreement with Mr. Russell."
"Do as I say," Zachary's tone turned icy. "Remember, from now on, no information about this drug reaches Michael."
After hanging up, Zachary dialed another number. "Find out the exact location of George's lab. I need detailed progress on their research."
Zachary put down the phone, gazing intently at the top floor of the Universal Building. As Michael's long-time friend, he knew better than anyone how this obsession had tormented Michael. Now, he had to take drastic measures.
"Michael, don't blame me," Zachary murmured, "I'm doing this for your own good."
Meanwhile, Emma was in her perfume studio, blending a new fragrance. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow on her focused profile. Her delicate fingers gently swirled a test tube, adding a few drops of precious essential oil to the mixture.
Suddenly, the phone rang, breaking the studio's tranquility. The screen displayed an unfamiliar number.
"Hello, is this Ava?" A sweet, syrupy voice asked on the other end.
Emma's hand paused slightly. Ava was her alias during her time at Sunterra, known to only a few.
"Yes, this is Ava. Who's calling?"
"I'm Wanda. I've heard so much about you," the voice was filled with deliberate flattery. "I understand your perfumes are highly sought after. I went through a lot of trouble to get your contact information."
Emma gently set down the test tube. "What can I do for you?"
"Well," Wanda's voice lowered, "I want to commission a special perfume. Money is no object."
Emma walked to the window, the sunlight casting a faint halo around her. "What kind of perfume are you looking for?"
"One that can make a man lose his mind," Wanda's tone turned suggestive. "Especially a man like George."
Emma's fingers tightened, her nails nearly digging into her palm. She took a deep breath, striving to keep her voice steady. "You know George?"
"Of course," Wanda said smugly. "We're very close. He's particularly fond of your perfumes, and I want to surprise him."
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