**Chapter 7: Go and Check** As Violet sat in the sterile hospital room, a peculiar sensation washed over her. It was a feeling that danced between confusion and concern. Why had he rushed off in such a hasty manner? Surely, there was something pressing that called him away. Clutching this glimmer of hope, she decided not to dwell in silence. She needed to act. With a determined gleam in her eye, she approached the nurse, requesting a simple post-it note. With careful strokes, she scribbled down her contact information, finally handing it over with a plea, "Could you please give this to him if he returns? My phone number." Meanwhile, across town in the imposing conference room of Murphy Group's headquarters, an eerie silence enveloped the atmosphere. Stanley loomed over the gathered members, standing tall with an air of authority, his gaze as cold as steel. The veteran executives, some of whom had not graced the boardroom in ages, shuffled nervously under his scrutiny. The ghost of a smirk played on his lips as he bellowed, "Is this some sort of dividend day? Or are you all just here to gawk at me?" His voice, rich and unwavering, cut through the tension like a knife. A moment ticked by, yet no one dared to offer a response. The only reason they had converged here was the alarming news of Stanley's supposed kidnapping. Whispers of a possible upheaval in the Murphy Group had echoed in the halls—speculation spiraling dangerously out of control. But as they basked in the sight of him unscathed, it became clear: the rumors were nothing but smoke and mirrors. A strained laughter broke the heavy silence, as Alfie, one of the seasoned executives, finally found the courage to speak. "We thought it was high time to check on our fearless leader," he feigned, eliciting a few nervous chuckles. The atmosphere, while still tense, began to ease slightly. Stanley, keenly aware of their ploys, chose to let their pretense go unchallenged. "It has indeed been a while since I've seen such familiar faces. How about we all share a meal together come noon?" Yet Alfie had other plans. "No, no, I’ve got prior commitments. I must be off." He mobilized himself with the aid of a crutch, ushering his weary companions toward the door, one by one they filed out, leaving Stanley to stare down the empty conference room. Once the door clicked shut behind them, a cold chill gripped the air, and Stanley's piercing gaze turned steely. “Fraser,” he called, summoning his assistant with an edge to his voice. "Yes, Mr. Murphy," Fraser entered swiftly, a sense of urgency trailing behind him. "Find out who orchestrated this charade,” Stanley commanded, his presence weighing heavily on Fraser’s shoulders. “Of course,” Fraser nodded, making to leave, yet Stanley halted him with a raised hand. “Wait. First, head to First Municipal Hospital. Deliver five million to that woman.” Stanley recalled Violet's face, her unexpected kindness lingering in his thoughts. A hint of warmth crossed his features, though a stubborn part of him resisted the notion of being indebted to anyone. However, fate twisted yet again. By the time Fraser arrived at the hospital, Violet had vanished, and despite his best efforts, the nurse was unable to locate the contact details she had left behind. A week sped by, and with each passing day, the phone remained silent—no calls, no texts. Violet felt a surprising sense of relief wash over her. Perhaps he had moved on without her. The sun shone brightly overhead as the weekend arrived, inviting her outside. Driving her two children to a nearby mall, they made their way to a popular ice cream parlor, a spot Arya had been excitedly talking about all week. After waiting patiently for twenty long minutes, finally, they stepped up to the counter. “Arya, what flavor do you want?” Violet asked, bending down to meet the sparkling eyes of her daughter. “Strawberry, strawberry!” Arya squeaked with delight, her face lighting up with joy. Turning to her older son, Violet inquired, “Calvin, how about you? What will you choose?” Calvin scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t want any. Ice cream is for girls.” With that, he ambled away to explore, only to freeze mid-step. As he looked up, his gaze caught sight of a woman in the boutique adjacent to the ice cream shop. His heart raced; it was the same woman who had bullied Mommy just days ago. Anger surged within him, fueling his need to confront the injustice he had witnessed, and his mind raced with thoughts of how he could protect his mother from her cruelty. In that moment, amidst the swirling colors of the mall, Calvin understood that sometimes battles were not just fought in the boardroom or under corporate lights—they were fought in the very fabric of their daily lives.