Chapter 116

Ethan Roscente ignored him completely.

He walked straight towards the staircase.

Charlie Lowell quickly caught up and grabbed his shoulder. "Ethan, stop this. Let's go back. Sophia Sullivan won't open the door..."

"I have something to give her."

Charlie was stunned. "What is it?"

Ethan pulled a tube of anti-allergy ointment from his pocket. "This season always triggers her allergies. I need to get this to her..."

Charlie's nose suddenly stung with emotion.

How did two people who loved each other so deeply end up like this?

"Right," Ethan nodded, his voice distant. "I came to deliver the medicine... she needs this... she has to have it..."

His voice faded.

His vision went dark.

His body went limp and collapsed.

Charlie quickly caught him, dragging him toward the car.

He glanced at the SUV at the end of the alley and let out a heavy, weary sigh.

They returned to the Beverly Hills mansion at one in the morning.

A housekeeper opened the door. Charlie urgently said, "Quick, give me a hand! He's drunk. Prepare some hangover soup..."

After giving instructions, he drove away.

Isabella Langley was already asleep but was woken by the noise downstairs.

For Ethan, for her place in this wealthy family, she forced herself awake, threw on a robe, and went down.

"Go get some water. I'll help him," Isabella said, reaching out to take Ethan.

"Madam, it's not advisable for you right now..." The housekeeper looked worriedly at her stomach.

The full weight of a grown man was no joke.

Isabella waved a dismissive hand. "I know what I'm doing. Just do as I say."

"Well... alright." The housekeeper carefully transferred Ethan's weight to her.

Isabella staggered the moment she took his weight.

The drunk man's full weight pressed down on her shoulders.

"W-wait—" she called out hastily to the housekeeper heading for water. "Y-you better support him. I'll get the water..."

After a glass of warm water, Ethan became slightly more lucid.

Isabella crouched down, her face bright with hope. "Baby, are you—"

The man lifted his cold eyes.

Isabella's expression instantly changed. She quickly corrected herself, "Ethan, are you feeling better?"

Ethan sat up straight. "Move."

Isabella froze.

"Did you not understand me?"

"Ethan, please don't be like this. You're scaring me..." The girl's eyes welled up with tears, looking pitiful and fragile.

Ethan's face remained expressionless, unmoved. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Isabella bit back her tears and stood up, moving aside.

The man walked straight past her and headed up to the second floor.

Humiliated and angry, Isabella bit her lip. Meeting the housekeeper's curious gaze, she took a deep breath, forced composure, and even managed a weak smile.

"Ethan's still drunk and not himself. Go prepare the hangover soup. I'll bring it to the master bedroom later."

"Yes, Madam."

Inside the master bedroom, Ethan closed the door, his legs too weak to support him.

The image of Sophia Sullivan, her hair pulled, tears in her eyes from the pain, flashed in his mind. His heart wrenched violently.

He reached into his pants pocket. The ointment was gone!

He searched his entire body. Nothing.

He rushed downstairs and scoured the living room. Still nothing.

At that moment, it felt like he had lost the most important thing in his life.

He crouched behind the sofa and cried like a child.

Sophia...

I miss you so much...

Please come back.

The only response was the dark, empty living room and the howling cold wind outside the window.

...

Sophia Sullivan woke early the next morning.

She washed up, made breakfast, got everything in order, and prepared to leave for the lab.

As she closed her door, she noticed a paper bag hanging from the handle.

Inside was a tube of anti-allergy nasal ointment.

It was even the brand she usually used.

She looked around. Who left this?

Her gaze fell on the door across from hers. Sophia examined the bag carefully.

Just as she was about to knock and ask if Alexander Laurent had left it, the door suddenly opened from inside.

Alexander stepped out, his expression stern. He paused when he saw her.

Sophia noticed his unusual demeanor. "Is something wrong?"

Alexander was serious. "Let's head to the lab. I'll explain on the way."

"Okay." Sophia immediately grew solemn, forgetting about the ointment.

On the way, Alexander received a call.

Whatever was said made his face change dramatically, his tone turning cold and heavy.

"...Understood. We're on our way. We'll be there soon."

He hung up. Before Sophia could ask, he spoke first. "The lab computers crashed unexpectedly. All of this week's experimental data has been wiped. The worst-case scenario is—"

He paused. "The data is completely lost. We'd have to start over from scratch."

Sophia frowned. "Doesn't the lab data have backups?"

"The screens suddenly went black. After rebooting, we found most of the backups were also erased. Less than thirty percent remains."

To prevent data leaks and ensure computer efficiency, the lab performed data clean-ups monthly.

Last Monday was the end of the month, and a clean-up had just been done.

The computers shouldn't have had issues, and all data was backed up twice. But... the accident still happened.

Was it really just an accident?

Alexander thought it was too soon to tell.

...

At eight sharp, all lab members were present. Alexander and Sophia arrived just in time.

So did the computer technicians responsible for repairs.

They had signed confidentiality agreements and worked exclusively for the MIT labs.

When the computer issue arose, Quincy Evans had immediately contacted them for help.

They had sent someone right away.

But half an hour had passed with no progress.

Alexander asked, "What's the situation?"

Quincy replied, "I just got a call from Lillian. She was about to input data when the screen suddenly went black. After restarting, the data was gone, and most backups were lost too."

"The technicians have checked. Aside from the data loss, there are no other issues. They're currently trying to recover the backup data."

Zoe Langley frowned.

Lillian Lopez had always been in charge of the main data set. All group experiment reports passed through her hands, and she had never made a mistake before.

This sudden problem could mean everyone's hard work for the past two weeks was wasted.

She must be feeling terrible about it.

Sure enough, Zoe looked up and saw Lillian pacing anxiously, her face filled with worry and unease.

Simon Lowell didn't understand computers. After watching for a while, he couldn't help but ask, "Sir, can our data be recovered?"