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Chapter 18
“I’m sorry…”
“Jonathan, you don’t need to apologize. I’ve told you repeatedly: only apologize when it’s truly necessary. I don’t know if this will comfort you, but take about a month off for a vacation. Of course, it’s paid. And this…”
Blake pulled a checkbook from his pocket and scribbled an amount before handing it to Jonathan.
“Take it. It should be enough to live comfortably at a resort for a month.”
Jonathan hesitantly accepted the check, then his eyes widened in shock.
“Sir! This is far too much!”
“It’s not too much. If you calculate all the work you’ve done for me so far, this amount is relatively small. Consider it a bribe to ensure you remain indispensable to me in the future.”
“Sir…”
“I’ve cleared your schedule for this afternoon, so go home immediately. That’s an order.”
“Th-thank you!”
Knowing that Blake never took back his words, Jonathan hurriedly packed his bag. His hands were still trembling so badly that he dropped his wallet several times.
Having worked for multiple company presidents before, Jonathan had seen all kinds of unreasonable demands. Being spat on or verbally abused was commonplace. A mere slap on the cheek couldn’t even scratch his strong spirit.
What terrified him more were bosses who threatened termination if they failed to appease clients. But Blake was different.
When Dawson slapped him for refusing to let him in without an appointment, Blake didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Dawson by the collar and struck him mercilessly on both cheeks. If Hagen hadn’t intervened, Dawson might have lost consciousness.
Smack—smack—smack.
The harsh sound of repeated slaps still rang in Jonathan’s ears. Blake was kind, but equally exacting and cold.
Jonathan never expected someone like him to take his side. Only after repeatedly checking the check did he realize it wasn’t a dream.
“Enjoy your vacation.”
Hagen, having finished cleaning up, greeted Jonathan as he left the building. Jonathan nodded vigorously and got into the car Blake had prepared, heading home.
Hagen watched the car drive off, then turned with a bitter smile. The whiskey Blake had canceled the contract for was one of the most popular items at the department store recently.
Blake often over-identified with his employees, sometimes at a significant personal cost.
He had built lavish employee dormitories unnecessarily and even provided maternity leave benefits and college tuition support for employees’ children.
Prominent Elbador businessmen often whispered that such actions were like throwing money onto the street. Hagen agreed, but Blake’s stubbornness was impossible to break.
Hagen sighed as he calculated the loss from today’s incident—but he wasn’t too worried. Despite all his complaints, Blake always somehow turned losses into even greater gains.
Pressing the elevator button to return to the office, Hagen stared at the apple tattoo on his arm. His long-term loyalty to Blake wasn’t just gratitude for being saved.
He had witnessed young Blake buying an entire fruit stall with only ten apples. Being near this boy, Hagen had realized he wouldn’t starve.
Hagen knew his own limits. He was only good at perseverance and fighting. He needed someone like Blake: a strong pillar to pledge loyalty to and provide a comfortable life. As long as that pillar stood, Hagen would protect it devotedly for life.
The elevator doors opened. Hagen adjusted his clothes; Blake disliked disorder.
Blake, flipping through documents as if nothing had happened, said, “Good work.”
“If you keep spoiling employees like this, you’ll go bankrupt. Why not just give them a little money and be done with it? Are you thinking of the days we were starving?”
Blake frowned at Hagen’s cheeky remark.
“Don’t cross the line, Hagen.”
“Oh, sorry, sir. Want me fired? But I doubt you could find someone who handles tricky situations as well as I do.”
Blake glared at him, then waved his hand.
“Enough. By the way, how’s the maid? No health problems, right?”
“She’s very healthy. She loves the young lady dearly. But she kept shouting all day, asking to be let out—quite troublesome.”
“Even if it’s difficult, treat her carefully. She’s an important witness.”
Blake rubbed his forehead wearily. At that moment, there was a cautious knock at the door.
“Come in.”
“Sir, there’s a call from Hughes’ tavern.”
“What did they say?”
“They’ve departed.”
“Understood. Jonathan will be away for a while, so Valden, please take care of things in the meantime. I will reward you for your efforts.”
“Reward? It’s only what I should do.”
After the secretary left, Blake glanced out the window. The skyscrapers below were bathed in the setting sun.
“It took longer than expected. Get ready to go, Hagen.”
“Right. I’ll drive, of course. We can’t have a stranger handle something this sensitive.”
Blake paused, putting on his jacket, and looked at him.
“What are you saying? If you drive, we’ll only arrive after sunset.”
“Some call that safe driving…”
“Quiet. If we’re going to arrive on time, I’ll drive.”
Clearly, he had made up his mind. Hagen swallowed nervously, watching Blake’s stubborn back, and silently prayed for a safe return.
“Ugh…”
Freya finally rose after four hours, clutching her throbbing head. Through her blurred vision, she saw Spencer’s back.
“Ugh… Uncle, what happened?”
“Freya! You’re finally awake!”
Spencer helped her sit, worry etched on his face.
“You collapsed suddenly. Has something been going on lately? You seemed unusually tense.”
Freya took the water he offered. As she drank, clarity returned.
“And the others?”
“They’re waiting downstairs for you to wake up. I couldn’t rest until I came to see you.”
Spencer held her hand, his warmth bringing a faint smile to her lips.
“When did our little Freya grow up? I know you’ve tried to act mature all this time. I understand how hard it is to live as Lancelot Swan’s daughter. This may not be appropriate to say, but now that your elder brother isn’t here, Freya, live as you wish.”
Freya smiled bitterly, her eyes briefly misting. The weight of pain she had endured alone was not light.
Still, she was grateful to have family like Spencer. She recalled memories of visiting his home often. He loved traveling and would bring fascinating stories for curious Freya.
On days when she was scolded harshly by Lancelot, he would quietly offer sweets while gleefully mocking her elder brother. Meeting him always lifted her spirits.
Looking into her devoted uncle’s eyes, Freya made up her mind.
‘Yes, now’s the time to tell him everything.’
No one else was around, making this the perfect opportunity to confide in Spencer. After gathering her thoughts, she opened her trembling lips.
“Uncle, I have something to tell you.”
“Speak freely.”
“Actually, on the night of the engagement…”
Freya recounted the events of that night in detail, omitting the identity of the person who had saved her. Spencer didn’t need to know Blake Harford had been involved.
Blake was no longer relevant to her life. She only needed to settle the debt of being saved.
Since he didn’t need money, perhaps even delivering a ledger exposing the Swan family’s secrets would suffice. Freya wanted Blake out of her life by any means.
She had no desire to meet the brazen, rude Harford again. Thinking of Blake’s piercing blue eyes made her blood boil.
Unconsciously, she fiddled with the wrist he had once grasped.
“How could this happen! No wonder I never liked that Jacob fellow!”
Spencer took the photo of Jacob’s illegitimate child that Freya handed him and went into a frenzy as if it were his own problem. Clenching his fists, he rose from his seat.
“Freya, we can’t just sit by. The relatives are all here, so we must tell everyone this story.”
