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."

"Probably Fiona," She mused, bitterness lacing her voice. "The fickleness

partners. Still, I would’ve preferred a show

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

but didn’t take the paper from her grasp. "I’m no doctor, Athena. I suggest you interpret this

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

"So, we’ll just keep praying then." He sighed deeply, ruffling his hair again, a nervous gesture that

I have a feeling that the

matter from her mind. The Adams family

things from the mansion to their house," Sandro said out of the blues, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. "Good thing Margaret

at the thought, both at Sandro’s aggrieved tone and the image of tossing Fiona’s expensive

voice, she had a cold," She asked,

shoulders casually. "I don’t really know. But she

taken Old Mr. Thorne’s advice then.

know Fiona had some of the guards under her thumb?"

she too needed a distraction amidst the turmoil surrounding her

sacked them all then blocked her accounts with the bank," Sandro continued, his tone already lightening. He reached into the front pocket of his shirt and pulled out two short bars of chocolate, handing one to Athena as if

authority to

out Ewan had given me more access than I had bargained for. Good thing, really, because Fiona isn’t touching any of his

in Ewan’s company?

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