“What’s the news?”
“Word is, during that time, Mr. Goodwin asked the board for stock options so he could set up a personal fund for an overseas research institute.”
Eleanor’s brow furrowed. A research institute?
Was it the lab Smith was running? Smith had in fact visited earlier this year—he must have come to discuss further investment.
Eleanor fell silent for a few seconds, just as Ellington wrapped up his own call.
She sat back on the sofa, thoughts swirling. Something didn’t add up. Smith’s lab was researching a rare blood disorder, but everyone knew that project was Ian’s doing. So what exactly was he up to? Why sink resources into studying such a rare disease?
Worldwide, there were fewer than a thousand documented cases. There was no way this could be profitable.
It could only mean he was trying to save someone who mattered deeply to him. And Eleanor had a good idea who that person was.
—Vanessa.
For the overseas lab to run smoothly, Ian had requested a massive stock option grant from the board.
Goodwin & Co., Executive Office.
Ian stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, surveying the city stretched out beneath him.
Gavin knocked and entered, handing him a document. “Mr. Goodwin, the funds from liquidating your options have all cleared. After penalties, the net gain is four hundred million.”
Ian took the file, glanced through it, and said coolly, “Transfer all of it to the overseas lab’s account.”
Gavin didn’t ask questions. “Understood.”


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