Chapter 1
Lucas Bennett felt like this was the highlight of his entire life.
His father lay in bed, coughing so hard as if he were about to croak at any second. An Oscar-worthy performance right there.
His mother dabbed at her tears while flashing him a subtle OK sign when no one was looking.
The document sat on the bedside table, waiting.
One signature from Emily Bennett, and 60 percent of Bennett Logistics Corp would be his.
Lucas glanced at Emily on the couch, still holding that thermos, face deadpan as always.
Lucas was frantic inside, cursing loudly, but his palms were sweaty. "Just sign it already! Dad's dying—have you got no heart?"
First thing he'd do after taking over? Rip out Emily's fancy office and turn it into his personal cigar lounge.
Then he'd finally grab that Ferrari he'd been eyeing for six months and throw wild rooftop parties with hot girls.
As for Emily? Toss her a few million and kick her out.
The company would be fine without her. It was the Bennett family connections that kept this place running anyway.
He watched Emily pick up the pen.
Lucas fought back a grin, thinking, "She's sharp as hell usually, but when it comes to family, she's a total pushover."
*****
The smell of disinfectant was sharp and overpowering.
But in the VIP room, there was this odd hint of barbecue in the air. Even with the exhaust fan going, Emily could still smell it.
She sat in the armchair by the window, head down, eyes on her tablet.
Financial reports filled the screen, red and green lines flickering.
"Emily... I... I might not make it..."
Richard Bennett lay there with his oxygen mask on, voice coming in gasps. His chest heaved like he might die any second.
Emily's mother, Helen Bennett, collapsed against the bed, sobbing her heart out.
"Richard! Why is life so cruel? How will Lucas and I survive without you?" she wailed.
The crying made Emily's ears ring.
She didn't even look up. Just closed the third-quarter profit report.
"What did the doctor say?" she asked.
Flat. Emotionless. Likes asking about the stock market closing.
"Lung cancer, late stage." Lucas, her brother, jumped in from the foot of the bed, waving a crumpled test report. "Emily, this is the latest result.
"Doc says it's spread—Dad's got only a few months, tops."
Emily finally looked up.
She adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses and held out her hand. "Let me see."
Lucas hesitated, glancing at Helen.
Helen's sobs paused, then got even louder. "What's there to see? Your father's dying and you still don't trust us? You're really trying to kill him?
"Cold-hearted girl!"
Emily said nothing. Just kept her hand out.
Her fingers were pale and thin, knuckles prominent. Her black smartwatch lit up: heart rate 72.
Steady as ever.
Lucas gritted his teeth and handed it over.
Emily took it and barely glanced at it.
Not even half a second.
General Hospital letterhead, signed by the chief oncologist. CT scan showed a mass in the lower right lung—stage IV peripheral lung cancer, probably.
It looked legit.
But Emily's eyes caught the timestamp in the bottom corner.
She lifted her wrist and checked her watch.
2:15 PM.
A test report from the future?
Interesting.
What really got her attention was the signature—Dr. William Grant.
Emily had seen General Hospital's staff list last month when negotiating the company's executive health package. The chief oncologist was Victor Grant.
Victor, not William.
One letter off. Big difference.
She gently set the report on her lap, eyes drifting to the trash can by the bedside table.
Sticking out was half a skewer covered in red chili powder.
So that was where the barbecue smell came from.
A guy with late-stage lung cancer eating barbecue in his hospital room?
Impressive fighting spirit.
"Emily, stop looking at that," Lucas said, leaning in.
He reeked of cheap cologne—the scent mixed with the hospital funk, making Emily's stomach turn. "Dad means he's in no condition to handle the company now.
"He wants to divide up the shares while he's still clear-headed."
"Divide up the shares?" Emily repeated.
"That's right," Helen said, wiping her face and standing up. She pulled a thick stack of documents out of her bag. "Emily, your brother's grown up now. It's time he started taking some responsibility.
"You've been working hard, burning the midnight oil. So, your dad wants to hand over your 60% stake to Lucas.
"Then you can relax, collect dividends, and find a nice husband. Doesn't that sound good?"
Emily stared at the papers.
A Share Transfer Agreement.
Even had the notary stamp already. Very efficient.
Suddenly, Emily felt thirsty.
She picked up her coffee cup and shook it. Empty.
"So, you want the company?" Emily asked.
"Want it? This is Bennett family property!" Richard barked, ripping off his oxygen mask.
He realized his mistake, grabbed his chest, and started coughing violently. "I'm just... thinking of everyone..."
Emily nodded. "Alright."
Dead silence.
Lucas' eyes went wide. He couldn't believe it was this easy.
Helen just stood there, mouth open in shock, tears still on her cheeks—she totally forgot to wipe them away.
"But I've got one condition," Emily said, pulling out a black Montblanc pen. She spun it between her fingers.