Chapter 1614: [For you, always.] [Yours, always.]

"But somehow, yesterday, they discovered she was the same woman who became a casualty during your father’s final operation before his discharge."

The lines between Atlas’s brows deepened as he processed the details of Butler Jen’s concern.

He knew Butler Jen wouldn’t come without good reason. But this? This wasn’t something Atlas had even considered.

He hadn’t expected it at all.

"Uncle Haines had a fiancée... who ghosted him on the day he was planning to propose?" Atlas repeated, seeking clarity as he watched Butler Jen nod. "And after decades, he found out that his ex and the woman who died in my father’s last operation are the same person?"

"Yes."

"The same woman whose death nearly destroyed my father?"

Butler Jen paused, then nodded. "Yes."

"What kind of coincidence is that?" Atlas asked, disbelief lacing his voice.

Atlas didn’t believe in coincidences. Not really. So this struck him as strange. Of all the people—it had to be her?

He wasn’t the only one asking that question.

"How did they find out?" Atlas asked, wondering if this all started with Penny—or if one of his elders had uncovered it during their own investigation.

"It all started with a photo."

"A photo?"

"Yes." Butler Jen huffed. "The Third Young Master had this woman’s portrait tucked away among his things. While we were packing to help him move, the photo fell out. Sir Charles saw it. If I’m right, he probably showed it to Sir Haines."

"..." Atlas stayed quiet, already aware of Slater’s ties to Homeland Security and his undercover work.

Since Homeland Security had been investigating a lethal drug, he hadn’t been surprised Slater had a photo like that. He assumed it was just part of a profile—something cropped from a dossier.

What he hadn’t realized was that Slater didn’t get that photo from the Homeland Security database.

He got it from Old Mrs. Pierson’s home.

"Sir Charles has been worried, and your mother too," Butler Jen continued. "I was hoping you could speak with your father and Sir Haines. They both trust you. I’m sure, if you asked, you could get them to sit down and talk."

"Instead of me, Butler Jen, you could do that easily."

Butler Jen sighed. "Sir Haines hasn’t come home since yesterday. I can’t make them talk if I don’t even know where one of them is."

"I see." Atlas tilted his head slightly, having a hunch about where Haines might be. "I’ll try my best, Butler Jen."

Hearing that, Butler Jen felt a wave of relief. "Thank you, Young Master."

---

Butler Jen didn’t linger long, though he did finish the tea Allen had served him. But even after he left, Atlas remained in the armchair, lost in thought.

He tapped his fingertip against the armrest, letting the steady rhythm help him think.

"That’s such a coincidence," he whispered, still not fully convinced. "Does Penny know?"

As the thought crossed his mind, a soft knock pulled him from his reverie. Looking up, he saw Finn poking his head in.

Atlas immediately arched a brow. "I’m busy. Leave me alone."

"I know you’re busy—that’s why I’m not stepping in," Finn replied, keeping his head in the doorway while his feet remained outside. "Just checking in on you."

"If you’re looking for Zoren, he’s free," Atlas said. "Don’t bother me. Bother him."

Finn smiled. "I don’t bother him. He bothers me. But thanks."

With that, Finn pulled his head back and closed the door. He just wanted to check on Atlas. If Atlas wasn’t in a destructive mood, then Zoren would be safe to approach—which mattered, considering what Finn needed to talk to him about.

"Tsk." Atlas clicked his tongue and shook his head, pulling his phone from his suit pocket to call Penny.

[The number you dialed is busy...]

He tried again. Still the same.

Penny’s phone being busy wasn’t surprising—but still frustrating.

"She needs to know about this," he muttered, staring at his screen. "This could give us more insight into what happened to Dad—and who that woman really was."

He tried contacting Slater too. No luck.

Slater being unavailable wasn’t surprising either, considering he was busy with shows. Still...

"How come, when I need silence from them, they won’t leave me alone—but when I actually need to talk to them, I can’t reach a single one?"

---

Meanwhile...

While everyone else worried about Haines’s relationship with Charles, Haines had other priorities.

A subtle smile played on his lips as he exited the interstate. He’d submitted his leave request days earlier, since he was preparing for surgery. Yesterday was supposed to be his last day. So when Charles didn’t show up, Haines had assumed it was deliberate—a petty move to stress him out.

That’s why he didn’t bother going to the office today.

Even after Grace had saved him from a nightmare—literally—he knew he needed time to process everything.

As he slowed to a stop at a red light, he glanced out the passenger-side window—and spotted it. The same flower shop where he’d bought the first bouquet he ever sent to Grace.

His eyes softened.

The light turned green—but instead of going to the grocery store as planned, he made a turn and parked in the narrow space beside the shop.

---

"Hello, welcome!" the florist greeted cheerfully as the chime rang, then lit up upon seeing Haines. "You’re back, sir!"

"You still remember me?"

"I’m really good with faces," the florist chuckled. "What flowers are you sending your wife today?"

Haines smiled subtly. "The usual. Sunflowers."

"I see." The florist nodded. "Would you like to include a card? Or leave it without one?"

"..." Haines paused, then nodded. "I’ll add a message."

The florist’s grin widened. "Alright then." He guided Haines to the counter so he could write the card while the bouquet was being prepared.

Leaning against the counter, Haines stared at the blank card. He had so much to say. But this little space could never hold it all.

"I guess a short one will do," he murmured—and wrote:

[For you, always.]

[Yours, always.]