Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife The Twins Are Not Yours novel Chapter 172

Chapter 172: A Grey Problem II

Athena pressed her lips into a thin line, her mind racing as she wondered what had gone wrong now. Just as she was pondering this, Sandro walked into her office.

He looked haggard, his eyes surrounded by dark circles of exhaustion—had he been treating the Grey disease too?

She couldn’t recall the last time she had seen him not clean-shaven, and now his jawline sported more stubble than usual.

"Good afternoon, Athena. How are you doing?" Sandro greeted, slumping into one of the chairs positioned across from her desk.

She couldn’t help but chuckle as she noted his disheveled appearance. "I seem to be doing better than you are."

Sandro let out a dry laugh, ruffling his hair as he settled to a more comfortable position. "Try handling a company with diverse branches, stepping into the shoes of your boss, and see if you won’t grow an extra finger and two eyes."

Athena grinned, shaking her head. "We can run an exchange then. You handle the recent Grey disease problem, and I’ll handle Ewan’s companies..."

Sandro pretended to consider it seriously, his finger tapping thoughtfully against his jaw, but he shook his head the following minute. "I think I’ll pass. I’d rather stick to my own problems, thanks."

Athena scoffed. If Sandro tried to battle the Grey disease, he just might lose his sanity amidst the chaos. "I thought as much..." She muttered, sinking deeper into her chair.

"So, why are you here? My assistant mentioned it was an urgent matter," She asked, hoping his news didn’t involve her friend being stricken by the Grey disease. She was already stretched thin by the fight against the outbreak.

"As you know, I’ve been trying to stall the shareholders’ meeting as long as I can until Ewan wakes up. I believe he’d handle it better than I will, even from a hospital bed. But the shareholders are growing restless; they’re demanding that the meeting be held next week. They’re also asking for a status report on Ewan’s health, wanting to know if they’re just selecting an acting director or if we’ll be looking at his will soon to see who he’d passed down the company to."

Athena shook her head. "Probably Fiona," She mused, bitterness lacing her voice. "The fickleness of men, huh..."

"Yeah. But I guess they are businessmen first, before friends or partners. Still, I would’ve preferred a show of solidarity. I mean, imagine asking for his will? It’s like they’re signing a contract with death itself!"

"I get your point..." Athena muttered, rummaging through the third drawer of her desk. She pulled out a lined piece of paper, glancing at it as if it held the answers they desperately needed. "This is Ewan’s situation at the moment," She said, holding it out to Sandro.

He took a quick look but didn’t take the paper from her grasp. "I’m no doctor, Athena. I suggest you interpret this foreign language for me."

Athena’s eyes widened slightly as she let out an "Oh" of realization regarding her oversight. "It means he’s getting better. But to know if he’ll be awake by next week, I’m not sure. Most of it depends on his will to live, something I unfortunately have no control over."

Sandro nodded solemnly. "So, we’ll just keep praying then." He sighed deeply, ruffling his hair again, a nervous gesture that was becoming more indicative of his stress.

"I really need him to wake up. I don’t know why Alfonso suggested the shareholders’ meeting, but I have a feeling that the man is up to no good—especially with Fiona lurking in the shadows."

Didn’t she know? Athena thought, inhaling deeply to dismiss the matter from her mind. The Adams family was no longer her concern.

"I’ve moved all of Fiona’s things from the mansion to their house," Sandro said out of the blues, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. "Good thing Margaret was there to receive me, because I was ready to drop them off right at the gates."

Athena chuckled softly at the thought, both at Sandro’s aggrieved tone and the image of tossing Fiona’s expensive items onto the road for scavengers to pick through.