The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

Chapter 504

The group made their way into the quest room.

Johnny strode over to the bed where a man, still immersed in work, nat propped up against the pillows. With respectful concern in his voice, Johnny said, “Sir, you really need to take it easy”

While speaking. Johnny tidied up the files that were spread over the man’s legs, placing them neatly, face down, on the nightstand

Owen leaned against the headboard, his cheeks gaunt and his complexion pallid. His whole frame was skeletal. His face, shoulders, neck, and hands resting atop the comforter were alarmingly thin.

Bringing up the rear, Mirabella couldn’t help but startle slightly at the sight of Owen’s emaciated form. He couldn’t have been more than in his thirties, but he bore the withered look of a man in his twilight years.

On the way here, Nikolai had briefed her about the man’s peculiar condition. An inexplicable wasting away. with no detectable medical reason–it was as if his vitality had been abruptly drained, propelling him into a state of exhaustion. Well, Owen’s current state seemed scarcely different from outright depletion.

Owen sensed a scrutinizing gaze and looked up. By then, Mirabella had averted her eyes. He glanced at her briefly before addressing Johnny, who was still fussing with the paperwork. “It’s fine. I’ll get through as much as I can while I still have the energy.”

plucked the pen from Owen’s fingers, and insisted, “Your

who had approached the bedside. “Mr. Dane is back. There’s hope for your illness

Owen exuded the commanding presence of a man accustomed to authority. His gaze settled on Dane, and with a

stature as the top executive of Ashford, a man beyond the reach of ordinary citizens, soon to be a significant figure in Riverdale. Even a member

subtle nod, Dane replied simply, “No trouble at all.”

pulled a chair close to the bed, sat down, and said, “Let me

Dane’s fingers rested on Owen’s wrist, his expression, initially composed, grew increasingly grave with each passing second. By the end, his

Dane intently, felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Nikolai had worn the same troubled look. when he

Johnny immediately asked, “What’s the verdict?

concern, equally eager for any insight Dane might

addressed Owen, “Mr. Owen, when did you

ago,” Owen replied slowly.

nearly twenty pounds a day,” Johnny interjected. “We’ve had