Chapter 41

The Anderson family's fortune couldn't rival the Heaths'.

But the Andersons were true old money. Their roots in the antiques trade stretched all the way back to the early dynasties, and over generations, they'd built a foundation both deep and unshakable. With assets topping seventy billion, they sat comfortably at ninth place on New Amberton's rich list.

That figure, however, was nothing more than a public guess. The family's real wealth ran much deeper. More importantly, the Andersons were the last of a dying breed-no public offerings, no outside investors, and never a penny in debt.

They weren't like those so-called tycoons who boasted of multi-billion-dollar empires but were drowning in even more debt.

The family had always been blessed with wealth, but never with heirs. For generations, only one child had carried on their name. In Lucie's generation, she was the last one left.

***

"... Grandpa, Lucie's going to be alright."

The old man's face was carved from thunderclouds, his presence suffocating, his authority absolute. "You'd better pray she is."

In his youth, Mr. Anderson had been known as Oddball.

He was a legend in the antiques world, a name spoken with respect across the city's most powerful circles. If the Andersons ever went head-to-head with the Heaths, it was anyone's guess who'd come out on top.

"Go kneel outside the operating room," he commanded, his voice cold as steel. "You don't get up until Lucie is safe. Not for a single second."

Steven swallowed, his throat tight with dread. He hesitated just a moment.

A real man knows when to bow his head.

This was his fault. He deserved this.

He stood, guilt and despair etched deep into his face, and walked to the operating room doors. With a heavy heart, he dropped to his knees.

Of course, in all of New Amberton, only Mr. Anderson could make him kneel.

Mr. Anderson clutched his chest, sinking heavily into a chair, fury and worry making his heart pound.

Rose, the family's longtime housekeeper, hurried to his side with heart pills. "Sir, please, stay calm. Miss Lucie is a good soul-she'll pull through."

Mr. Anderson swallowed the pills, his breath ragged. Eyes closed tight, he began to pray.

Steven stayed where he was, kneeling, silently begging the universe to spare Lucie.

Shannon hovered nearby, her voice trembling as she tried to comfort him. "Steven, it will be alright. I'm sure... I'm sure she will be fine."

But as soon as the words left her lips, she shot a bitter glance at the operating room doors. In her heart, she was cursing Lucie, wishing she wouldn't make it through, hoping for her final breath.

***

Half an hour dragged by.

The surgery was still underway.

Miranda burst into the hospital, wild with worry and anger.

"What the hell happened? What kind of mess has Lucie gotten herself into this time?"

Marian kept fanning the flames. "Shannon just called me. She said Mr. Anderson made Steven kneel for his wife!

"A man's dignity is worth more than gold! Who does that old man think he is, forcing him to kneel? He's just throwing his.weight around because he's old, but does he even know who he's dealing with?

“There's a line you don't cross! I've never seen anyone use their age to humiliate someone like this."

Miranda was already burning with rage, and Marian's words poured gasoline on the fire. "It's outrageous."

Moments later, Miranda stormed down the hall, her heels echoing like gunshots. Just as she'd heard, her son was kneeling on the cold floor outside the operating

room.

"Steven! What are you doing? Get up, right now!"

Steven's face was gray with exhaustion, his knees numb. "Mom, please—just let it go. Go home."

Miranda's jaw clenched. She strode up to Mr. Anderson, her eyes blazing. “Mr. Anderson, isn't this a bit much? Forcing my son to kneel?"

Mr. Anderson's eyes opened slowly, his gaze sharp as a hawk's. “Too much? If it weren't for your son, would my granddaughter be lying in there The Heath family may be powerful, but you don't get to throw your weight around here."