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Chapter 582
Chapter 582:
Both cars merged into the heavy Manhattan traffic, moving in the same direction, toward the same Michelin-starred address.
The Manhattan skyline glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Love Group’s top-floor executive office.
Crawford stood at the glass, a crystal tumbler of whiskey in his left hand. Behind him, sitting at the precise center of his polished mahogany desk, was a glass object.
Not the gold-veined art piece he had sent to June. The original — the rough, deformed, abandoned lump she had left on the scrap table in Carmel.
He turned and reached out with his right hand, running his thumb slowly across the sharp, pitted edges of the glass. He traced the exact places where her fingers had pressed into the molten material before it cooled and locked into its broken shape.
His dark eyes were heavy with something that had long since crossed the boundary between devotion and obsession.
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“Cole,” Crawford said quietly to the empty room, his voice a low, private rumble. “You have absolutely no idea how precious she is p>
He picked up the ugly lump of glass and carried it to the biometric safe built into the wall — the same safe that held his most devastating corporate intelligence files — and locked it carefully inside.
The air inside Le Bernardin was layered with the deep, earthy perfume of shaved white truffles and the quiet, unhurried murmur of serious wealth.
A maître d’ in a flawless suit guided June through the dimly lit dining room and into a private VIP room tucked behind a heavy velvet curtain at the back.
Brogan was already seated at the round table. Across from him sat an elderly man with thinning white hair, wearing a simple, slightly faded grey Mao suit — no watch, no cufflinks, no visible brand of any kind. He looked entirely out of place in the opulent room, and yet the intellectual authority radiating from him was so complete it seemed to compress the air around him.
Dr. Zhang.
June’s heart lifted. She crossed the room quickly and bowed deeply.
“Professor. It is an honor to see you again p>
Dr. Zhang rose. His eyes crinkled at the corners with genuine warmth.
“June,” he said softly. “The brilliant girl who used to sleep under the lab benches. Look at you now p>
They sat. Brogan, displaying considerable emotional intelligence, poured the wine quietly and then withdrew into the background, leaving the two of them to find their way back to each other.
Through the appetizer course, Dr. Zhang subjected June to a rigorous interrogation on the molecular structure and clinical trial data of the Gen-2 drug. She didn’t miss a step. Her answers came back razor-sharp, grounded in flawless logic and an aggressive, intuitive command of the science that clearly satisfied him at a level beyond what the data alone had done.
Dr. Zhang set his silver fork down and wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. The warmth in his expression shifted, giving way to something precise and official.