CHAPTER 487: EXTRAS II

Months later...

Amala walked into Lola’s office, catching the latter quietly signing some documents. A shallow sigh escaped her as she closed the door behind her.

"He left," she said, though Lola didn’t react. "I know I shouldn’t be telling you this, but these people are actually persistent."

"Keep sending them away—" Lola paused, then looked up at her. "Better yet, just ask someone else to do it."

She straightened her back. "You don’t have to do it yourself, Amala."

"I know." Amala crossed her arms across her chest. "It’s just that—I don’t know."

"You feel bad for them?" Lola arched a brow, only for Amala to burst out laughing.

"Why would I? The second we became friends, I hated all of them." She unfolded her arms and reached for the pile of documents on the desk. "Anyway, I just came to pick these up. Looks like they’re done."

Her lips curled. "I think this is the last one?"

"Not the last. I still have a few."

"And then you’re going to leave?"

Lola chuckled. "You know I’m not leaving. I’ll help you manage."

"Online."

"What’s so bad about it?" she wiggled her brows. "Atlas does it with Summit Partners."

Amala opened her mouth, then shrugged with a small smile.

"Anyway, time for me to work!" she intoned. "Though I might call the police if he doesn’t stop whining outside."

With that, Amala walked out of the office.

Lola stared at the door for a moment, thinking about her words. Slowly, she turned to the floor-to-ceiling window and pushed herself up. Approaching it, her eyes fell on the road below.

There, she quickly spotted the source of Amala’s distress.

Lawrence Young.

Even from this distance, Lola could tell he was causing a scene right across the building—seated on the pavement, crying and dragging his hand down his face.

Lola crossed her arms; her eyes held no mockery, no pity. If anything, she felt nothing.

Ever since Lawrence came out of the hospital, he had been visiting Lola’s office. At first, he begged to see his "daughter." When that didn’t work, he began playing the victim. He’d tried causing trouble too, but nothing worked.

So now he was back to begging and trying to gain sympathy from people who didn’t know the real story.

"I guess I underestimated Melissa’s character," she whispered. "How could she just leave her father behind?"

After all that drama—swearing she would take care of him—Melissa had abandoned him. Even if Lola didn’t care much about the Youngs anymore, Lawrence’s behavior piqued her curiosity. She eventually learned that Melissa had left him even before he was discharged.

Good thing Grandpa Lancaster had paid for Lawrence’s hospitalization. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to leave the hospital at all. And even if he did, it would have been with mountains of debt.

"He should be grateful that even when he lost everything... he didn’t end up buried in debt or any gang after him to get their payment," she murmured. "But I guess someone like him doesn’t change."

*****

Meanwhile, Lawrence sat on the pavement in distress. Under the season’s heat, beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.

"Ugh..." His head throbbed, and his stomach was growling since he hadn’t eaten since last night. He ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes.

Just then, a cool shade stretched over him. Slowly, he looked up, and his eyes lit up the second he recognized the figure standing before him.

"Daughter!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Lola, I knew you would—"

He stepped forward to hug her, but Lola immediately stepped back. His arms hung mid-air, and his smile stiffened when he met her cold eyes, reflecting his haggard face.

"You’re persistent. I’ll give you that," she said coldly. "Tell me what you want."

"Lola—"

"Come with me."

Lola hadn’t planned to meet any of the Youngs ever again. She hadn’t even visited Chairman Lancaster. She was here for her own reasons. But since Lawrence wouldn’t stop—and ignoring him wasn’t working—she decided to give him just one chance.

At a nearby restaurant, Lola ordered as much food as she could. Not surprisingly, Lawrence ate like it was his last meal. She sat across from him, watching him emotionlessly.

"This is so good!" he declared, laughing with his mouth full. "It’s be—"

He stopped, choking mid-sentence. Panicking, he reached for his water and gulped it down until the blockage cleared. He sighed with relief and chuckled.

"Sorry about that." Then he noticed Lola’s untouched plate. "Lola, daughter, why aren’t you eating? Don’t you like the food?"

Lola let out a short, airy laugh. Ever since she came down to meet him, Lawrence had kept calling her "daughter." Decades of living with him, and only now did she hear him say it so sweetly and desperately.

"Lawrence Young, I came to meet you not for anything sentimental." Her voice remained cold. "You’re affecting my business and my people. So tell me what you want."

His smile faltered as he shifted in his seat. "Lola, don’t be like that. I might not be your real father, but I still raised you."

"Raised me?" Her brows knitted. "Fine. Let’s assume you did. And then what?"

"Lola..."

"Your own daughter—your flesh and blood, the one you always doted on—abandoned you." She stressed each word, her eyes sharp as daggers. "If your real daughter could do that, why would you expect anything from me?"

His breath hitched. All the food he’d eaten suddenly felt like rising back up. In a panic, he scrambled off his seat and knelt beside her.

"Lola, help me this once, hmm?" He rubbed his hands together. "If you can’t lend me money for capital, then... just give me a position in your office."

Her brow lifted. "Huh?"

"I mean any position!" he corrected instantly. "Reception desk, minor office tasks—anything! Just help me out this once. No company will hire an old man with no real experience."

He looked at her with glistening, desperate eyes. "Please, daughter—Madam Bennet—think about the years we were a family. Your husband is rich, you’re successful. Giving me a task isn’t hard, right?"

"..."

Lola inhaled deeply and stood. She didn’t budge despite Lawrence kneeling at her feet, even as people around them began staring.

When she looked down at him, her voice was frosty.

"If you want me to think about the years we were once a family... all it reminds me of is how hellish my life was under your tyranny."

"Lawrence Young, it’s true—I could give you a job," she continued. "But I don’t trust you. And I don’t like you. So why would I?"

"Huh?"

"You’re resilient, and I do feel sorry for you," she said, placing a large bill on the table. "But that’s where it ends. Lawrence Young, I hope this is the last time you cause a scene at my company. If you do it again, I’ll press charges. I don’t think you want to end up in the same prison as Mike."

She met his eyes, unwavering. "This is my first and last warning."

With that, Lola turned to leave, only stopping a few steps away to look over her shoulder.

"Keep the change."

Then she walked out, leaving Lawrence staring helplessly at her retreating back.