Chapter 156: The Deep Connection

Morgan studied the older woman in silence. His gaze was sharp enough to strip away pretense.

After a long moment, he finally spoke.

"Madam Su, I appreciate that you came here yourself."

His tone softened slightly.

"I know this couldn’t have been an easy decision."

He paused.

"But honesty doesn’t erase consequences. Isobel suffered because of your actions."

"An apology alone cannot undo that."

Su San inclined her head.

"I understand. I’ll apologize to her personally."

"And I’ll compensate her."

She met Morgan’s eyes.

"Name your terms."

Morgan answered without hesitation.

"I want two percent of the equity in Richard’s fintech startup transferred to Isobel."

For the first time during the meeting, Su San’s composure cracked.

Two percent. The figure was far beyond what she had expected.

Her first instinct was to refuse.

Yet the unwavering look in Morgan’s eyes told her the matter wasn’t open for negotiation.

She slowly nodded.

"Very well."

"I’ll have my lawyers prepare the transfer agreement and send them to you for review."

Deep down, she doubted Richard would object.

If anything...he might gladly give Isobel far more.

As Su San rose to leave, Morgan’s voice stopped her.

"Madam Su."

She turned.

"I hope there will never be a second time."

The warning was delivered politely...that somehow made it even more intimidating.

Su San gave a slight nod.

"There won’t be."

She walked toward the door while Morgan watched her in silence.

He had considered asking whether Richard had uncovered the truth and forced her hand.

It was the only explanation that made sense.

The Iron Lady hadn’t built Learson Group into a corporate powerhouse by confessing her mistakes.

No one with her reputation voluntarily admitted to orchestrating a crime. Not unless the alternative was even worse.

In the end, he said nothing. His suspicions were just that—suspicions.

Su San reached for the doorknob.

"Madam Su."

She paused once more without looking back.

"There’s one thing you’ve misunderstood."

She slowly turned to face him.

Morgan’s expression was calm again. Steady and certain.

"You believe Isobel will hold Richard back."

He shook his head.

"It’s the other way around."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"If they ever choose each other..."

His gaze remained unwavering.

"It won’t be Isobel who becomes Richard’s burden."

A deliberate pause.

"It will be Richard who becomes hers."

Madam Su San paused with one hand on the doorknob.

She looked back at Morgan.

"It won’t be Isobel who becomes Richard’s burden... It will be Richard who becomes hers."

His words lingered in her mind.

What did he mean by that?

For a fleeting moment, she considered asking.

Instead, she merely inclined her head before leaving the office.

The soft click of the closing door echoed through the room.

Silence returned.

Morgan remained standing for several seconds before walking back to his desk.

He picked up his tablet and opened the investigative file Jack and Cindy had compiled on Richard.

He had only skimmed through it before.

Now, he read every page.

The deeper he delved into the report, the more he understood why Madam Su San feared that Isobel would hold back Richard.

Jack and Cindy had done an exceptional job.

Beyond gathering official records, they had interviewed former caretakers, volunteers, and children who had grown up in the orphanage.

They had even managed to collect faded photographs spanning nearly a decade and took digital copies of them.

Morgan opened the album.

Isobel’s first birthday.

A boy no older than eight proudly carried a chubby toddler on one arm while clutching a pink stuffed bunny in the other.

The baby’s smile was as radiant as the sunflower headband perched atop her tiny head.

According to the notes, Richard had woken before dawn that morning to gather wildflowers from nearby fields so he could decorate the orphanage’s modest party hall.

He had also spent days doing odd jobs just to buy the stuffed rabbit she now hugged so tightly.

Morgan swiped to the next photograph.

Second birthday.

Richard still carried her.

This time, Isobel held a fluffy teddy bear nearly as large as herself.

It was inexpensive. The stitching was uneven.

But judging from the delighted grin on her face, it might as well have been the most precious treasure in the world.

Third birthday.

Richard had grown taller.

Instead of carrying her, he stood proudly beside a chair while little Isobel balanced on top of it, raising a brand-new box of crayons toward the camera as though displaying a priceless trophy.

Morgan continued scrolling.

Fifth birthday.

Richard’s limbs had become long and lean, making him look almost too skinny for his age.

Standing beside him, Isobel clutched a small learning tablet.

The notes identified it as Richard’s gift.

Morgan frowned.

A tablet wasn’t cheap.

How many months had a teenage orphan worked to afford something like that?

He moved on.

Seventh birthday.

This photograph was different.

The celebration was no longer held inside the orphanage.

A kind-looking couple stood on either side of Isobel, smiling warmly for the camera.

Her adoptive parents.

Richard stood several steps away, almost pushed out of the frame.

He was smiling.

Yet the camera had captured something else.

His eyes.

They never left Isobel.

Morgan stared at the image longer than the others.

That wasn’t the look of a jealous boy.

It was the quiet relief of someone grateful that the person most precious to him had finally found a family.

He continued.

Tenth birthday.

Morgan enlarged the picture.

For nearly ten years, the faces around Isobel had changed.

Caretakers. Children. Volunteers.

Only one face remained a constant.

Richard’s.

He was there every single year.

Morgan slowly set the tablet on his desk.

A quiet pang stirred in his chest.

For the first time, he found himself envying Richard.

Richard had watched Isobel grow from a helpless infant into a bright, smiling young girl.

He had witnessed her first birthdays. Celebrated her little milestones. Shared both her joys and her tears.

He had been there through the years Morgan could never reclaim.

Morgan lowered his gaze.

There was no resentment in his heart—only a quiet sense of loss for the memories he would never have with the sister he had only just found.

Now he understood.

No wonder Richard had searched for her the moment he returned to Novare.

He hadn’t been searching for a childhood friend.

He had been searching for the person who had always been his family.