Chapter 565 Whether The Fate of Hunter
A sense of unease clung to Patricia, a foreboding feeling that the truth was teetering on the brink of revelation.
"Nathan," she began, her voice hesitant, "might I impose upon you one more favor?"
Nathan responded with an easy smile, "Patricia, there's no favor too great or too small. Your concerns are my concerns. I may not have a global reach, but here in the States, my network is substantial."
Patricia, her heart warmed by his willingness, replied, "I appreciate that, Nathan. I need assistance in investigating two individuals—Hunter and Alaric Morgan."
At the mention of Alaric Morgan, Nathan's brow furrowed. "Alaric Morgan of the Sackler Group?"
Patricia nodded in affirmation. "Yes, the very same. After the Miller Group's collapse, he resurfaced under the name Alaric Morgan. I worry that he might reinvent himself yet again and wreak havoc."
She found herself wishing she had taken more drastic measures in the past, perhaps even poisoning him to ensure he would cause no further trouble.
Nathan considered the situation, "The sudden dissolution of the Sackler Group was indeed strange. Despite this, their influence, wealth, and status were undeniable. Much like the Miller Group before them—they were systematically dismantled, and if not for the Sackler's generous buyout, they could have survived another decade or so. The Sackler Group, despite their ability to acquire the Miller Group, vanished without a trace. Yet, the legacy of the Miller Group must still linger somewhere!"
His analysis sent a chill down Patricia's spine, causing her to shudder and her skin to prickle with goosebumps.
Indeed, after acquiring the Miller Group, the Sackler Group had ascended to the top of American commerce, becoming the wealthiest entity in the nation.
Although the Koch family had unearthed the truth and moved against him, their influence was primarily in Country Y, while his was in America.
The Koch Group, with its dominance in Country Y, could certainly challenge the Sackler Group, but it seemed unlikely they could bring about its downfall overnight.
Even Martin's past attempts to undermine Hunter had been slow and methodical.
The more Patricia pondered, the more her anxiety grew.
Had the Sackler Group truly collapsed, or had Hunter, ever the cunning strategist, orchestrated a flawless exit and planned another phoenix-like rise under a new identity?
Such intricate plots were not beyond a man of his caliber.
What seemed impossible to others was merely a challenge to him.
Patricia's worry deepened. "That's precisely why I need your help, Nathan. The Moore Group has a firm footing here in the States, making it easier for you to investigate than for me."
She hoped her fears were unfounded.
If Hunter were dead, she could finally breathe easy.
But if he were alive, the thought of his potential next moves was terrifying.
It was akin to living with a ticking time bomb, the threat of detonation looming at every moment.
Nathan reassured her, "Don't fret, Patricia. If he's alive and in the States, I'll find him. And if he's dead, I'll uncover the truth."
"Thank you, Nathan," Patricia expressed her gratitude, touched by his willingness to help her despite their lack of familial or close personal ties.
"If there's nothing else, I should be on my way," Nathan announced, rising from his seat and smoothing out his rumpled attire before taking his leave.
Suddenly, Patricia and James found themselves alone in the guest room.
Their collaboration had reached a temporary pause, and the issue with Charlotte had been put on hold.
Neither of them could return home, leaving them stranded in the hotel for two days.
Patricia cleared her throat, a nervous edge lacing her voice as she offered a sheepish smile. "Charles won't need us for a couple of days. Perhaps we could seize the opportunity to enjoy ourselves a bit," she suggested.
James, intrigued, merely responded with a questioning, "Hmm?"
Sensing his hesitation, Patricia hastily added, "If you're not keen on venturing too far, we can simply relax at the hotel. I don't mind exploring on my own either."
A soft cough escaped James, his eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter. "And where, pray tell, do you propose we go for this fun?"
Patricia's eyes sparked with excitement, "You're interested? If you're game, I'll start planning right away."
"As long as it doesn't involve scaling mountains, diving into the depths of the ocean, or any extreme sports, I'm open to a normal outing," James replied.
At his words, Patricia's grin widened, nearly splitting her face as she nodded enthusiastically. "Fantastic! I'll start researching immediately!" With that, she eagerly grabbed her phone, already engrossed in planning their outing.
She couldn't quite comprehend the surge of joy she felt. There were only so many places to see in the country. Patricia had visited the United States numerous times, yet she had never taken the opportunity to truly explore. The mere mention of museums, art galleries, and the iconic Times Square was thrilling enough, but it wasn't just about the destinations.
What mattered more was the company she kept.
That evening, Patricia was practically buzzing with anticipation for the following day's activities. "Make sure to get a good night's sleep so we can start early tomorrow! We'll grab breakfast and then head to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, followed by the Museum of the Moving Image. If time permits, we might even visit..." Her voice trailed off as she continued to list potential destinations.
James watched her with a tender smile, her infectious enthusiasm sweeping him up in the moment.
True to her word, Patricia was quick to act. After dinner, they both retired early, each eager for the day to come.
As dawn broke, Patricia was the first to rise. She stretched languidly before slipping into her slippers and making her way to rouse James, who was still deep in slumber.
She tiptoed to his side, careful not to make a sound, then playfully pinched his nose through his mask, effectively cutting off his breath.
The moment she pinched his nose, James, who had been pretending to sleep, suddenly opened his eyes, startling Patricia. She stumbled backward, nearly falling, but James caught her just in time.
"What are you doing? Attempting acrobatics this early in the morning?" he teased.
Patricia's heart pounded in her chest from the surprise. "Why'd you scare me like that?" she exclaimed, visibly shaken.
James chuckled, sitting up. "Wasn't it you who initiated this mischief?"
Patricia, realizing she was at fault, softened her tone. "I was just trying to have a bit of fun. I didn't expect you to be so sensitive."
After a brief pause, she continued, "Do you always sleep with your mask on? Wearing it constantly isn't healthy; you might not get enough oxygen."
As she spoke, her gaze focused intently on James's face, concern etched in her features. "Why hasn't your chickenpox cleared up yet? What kind of strain causes so many spots?"
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