Chapter 528 That's Martin, Right?
"A month? A high-performance chipset?" Patricia said, her shoulders slumping helplessly as if she were a wilted flower.
"Are you sure they're not just putting you in a tough spot?" Riley furrowed his brow. "I may not be an expert, but I understand it takes a long time to go from chip development to trials and then to market. One month? And it has to be high-quality? Sounds like nobody has managed to do that yet, right?"
"Yeah," Patricia responded grimly, "but Max only gave us a week. If we don't meet his demand, we'll definitely lose our bet with him. If we agree, there might be a slim chance."
After a moment of silence, Patricia turned to Alan. "Alan, call Luke. Ask him to camp out in the lab these next few days and to work overtime non-stop on this. It seems impossible, I know, but we still have to try."
Alan nodded and called Luke, relaying Patricia's message. Like Alan, Luke agreed without hesitation, fiercely loyal to Martin.
Patricia then added, "We'll leave the lab to Luke. Let's head back to Ivara City and meet with Mr. Robinson. If he agrees to continue collaborating, we might stave off the company crisis for a while."
Alan pulled out his phone and booked the earliest flight for that day. The trio made their way out of the resort, dragging their suitcases behind them.
Feeling as though someone was watching her, Patricia stopped and turned around, guided by her intuition. Yet, she found nothing but a series of adjoining houses. Disappointed, she continued walking, only to hear a faint cough behind her moments later.
Her whole body tensed at the sound. Dropping her luggage, she ran back, searching frantically for something, anything. Despite her efforts, she found nothing. The streets were bustling, yet not one person was who she hoped to see.
Patricia stood alone in the middle of the road, her shoulders sagging, as she stared down at her feet and muttered to herself, doubting her senses. Despite trying to convince herself, deep down, she knew there was no confidence in her words. Martin had been dead for months; it must be her grief playing tricks on her mind.
A gentle tap on the shoulder from Riley brought her back to reality. "Let's go back," he said, his deep voice resonating beside her ear.
"Did you hear someone coughing behind us?" Patricia asked, turning to him with a questioning look.
Riley, not wanting to crush her hopes yet unable to watch her suffer, shook his head. "No, I didn't."
Alan joined them, his voice soft. "I understand how you feel, Mrs. Watson, but honestly, there was no sound. Jeremy and I heard nothing."
Convinced it was all in her mind, Patricia took her suitcase from Alan with a crestfallen air and started walking away, lost in thought. Riley followed closely behind, concerned, while Alan lingered at the back, giving one last glance behind them before quickening his pace to catch up with Patricia.
Back in Ivara City, Patricia and Alan returned to their respective homes to rest, both awaiting a response from Lassie. However, as the evening approached, Patricia found herself still waiting for word from Lassie. Overcome with a mix of embarrassment and urgency, she decided to make the call herself, mindful of Max's looming deadline.
After what seemed like an eternity of ringing with no answer, Patricia was about to give up when the call finally connected. "Hello?" she began,
A shrill voice brimming with disdain said, "Are you that shameless woman? How dare you send Lassie to beg my dad to see you? Who do you think you are? You're really full of yourself."
Before she could respond, Lassie's voice, tinged with urgency and anger, cut through. "Christine, give me the phone."
"Why should I? Remember, you're just an unwanted stray who isn't even related by blood to the Robinson family. Don't think marrying Carter is your ticket to the top. Do you think you'd be living in luxury if it wasn't for the mix-up at the hospital when you were a baby? You shameless tramp, you've found your birth parents, and yet you cling to the Robinsons. I'm telling you, the Robinson family is mine, and you have no part in it."
Christine's voice fell silent, only to be replaced by Lassie's once again.
"Christine, you're crossing the line. Hand over the phone now, or I won't be so polite."
"Oh, what? Do you think being Mrs. Moore makes you something special? Are you threatening me now? Carter's on his deathbed, not long for this world."
A loud 'smack' cut her off.
Someone had been hit, though she couldn't see who. But from the conversation, it was likely Christine who had just felt Lassie's palm.
A frantic voice followed, "Mrs. Watson, I'm sorry. There's a situation here. I can't talk right now, but I'll call you back later—"
"Lassie, you wretch," Christine's piercing voice interrupted, "how dare you hit me? I'm going to teach you a lesson—"
Another loud smack echoed. Then, the line went dead.
The voices from the other side vanished, replaced by a busy tone.
Patricia was dumbfounded. What in the world was happening? Were they fighting?
There was no way Lassie stood a chance against that wildcat Christine.
No, this couldn't happen. This mess started because of her; she couldn't let Lassie get hurt because of it.
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