Chapter 37: His Take

Emerald’s POV

"Huh?" The word slipped out before I could stop it.

I glanced at him, hoping he might reconsider and suggest a different solution. Instead, he reiterated his previous comment.

"Go back to your grandfather and ask him to extend the original timeline." His gaze remained steady on mine. "Otherwise, with only five months left, you will have no choice but to take the ugly route."

When he mentioned the ugly route, I recalled the earlier examples he provided—killing and forcing someone to relinquish ownership at the moment of death.

I shook my head almost immediately. "No."

He stared at me quietly. "Then go back to your grandfather."

I leaned back in my chair. "No." The answer came more firmly this time.

Going back to that old man to ask for more time... was no different from asking to be skinned alive.

A faint crease appeared between Professor King’s brows. "Why?"

The question caught me off guard. I didn’t think he would want to know the reason. I opened my mouth, only to close it again.

How was I supposed to explain something that had shaped my entire life?

He appeared to catch my hesitation, then calmly said, "Our conversation stays here. You may speak freely."

I knew what he meant. He was telling me that I could trust him. Under normal circumstances, that should have been enough, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that I hardly knew him.

Outside Lanard Business School, he was simply Professor Michael King. Nothing more.

Could I really tell him about my family? About Grandfather? About everything that had happened over the years?

I lowered my eyes to the table, so many thoughts running through my mind. Professor King made no attempt to rush me. He picked up his coffee again and drank quietly while waiting.

The silence somehow made it easier to think. Eventually, I let out the breath I had been holding.

"My grandfather is a very strict man," I started. "He believes that if something is worth doing, then it should be done perfectly. He doesn’t accept mistakes. He doesn’t tolerate mediocrity. And he certainly doesn’t overlook failure."

I paused briefly before continuing. "If someone disappoints him, there is always a punishment. It doesn’t matter who that person is."

Professor King listened without interrupting. After a while, he asked, "Is he like that with everyone in your family?"

I frowned slightly. The question was unexpected. I found myself thinking back over the years—family dinners, business meetings, conversations, arguments, and punishments.

One memory after another surfaced before quietly fading away again. The more I thought about them, the more something became clear.

Grandfather was strict with everyone. That much was true. But... he was stricter with me. Much stricter.

It was a thought I had never allowed myself to put into words before. Perhaps because I had never wanted to admit it. Or perhaps because I had always made excuses for him.

A quiet thought crossed my mind. Could it be because I wasn’t his biological granddaughter?

The thought stung more than I expected. I quickly pushed it aside before it could settle and glanced back at Professor King.

"I think..." I hesitated. "I think he’s stricter with me than he is with my cousins."

He simply nodded. There was no surprise on his face, nor any pity. He merely accepted what I had said. "Then you will need to change how you approach him. You will have to be confident and firm."

His tone remained calm as he continued, "If you appear uncertain before him, he will naturally take control of the conversation. He will make every decision for you."

I quietly listened. Part of me wanted to argue. Grandfather wasn’t someone who changed simply because another person spoke confidently. If it were that easy, someone in the family would have done it years ago.

Regardless of my thoughts, I held my tongue. Professor King wasn’t speaking carelessly. Everything he had said so far had been carefully considered.

"You need more time," he continued. "Without it, every plan you make will fail before it even begins."

He paused briefly before adding, "When you meet your grandfather, ask him for another thirteen months."

I blinked. "Thirteen?"

He nodded. "You already have five months remaining. Adding another thirteen gives you one year and six months. That is a realistic timeframe."

I quietly repeated the number in my head. One year, six months. It still sounded like a very long time. Yet compared to five months, the difference was enormous.

I turned to him again. "Professor... this isn’t meant to question your judgment..." I hesitated before finishing. "...but are you sure?"

He nodded once. "I am."

His confidence somehow settled my restless thoughts. After another moment of silence, I asked, "What comes after that? If my Grandfather agrees... then what?"

He picked up his coffee. "Let me know after you’ve succeeded." He took a sip before continuing. "I’ll tell you the next step then."

For the first time since Grandfather gave me this impossible task, I finally felt as though someone had handed me a place to begin.

It wasn’t a complete solution, but it was a good direction. And perhaps, that was exactly what I had been missing.

---

By the time I returned to my dormitory, the heaviness that had followed me for weeks had eased considerably.

After setting my things down, I picked up my phone and called my father. He answered after only two rings.

"Emerald."

"Dad."

His voice immediately softened. "How are you?"

"I’m alright." There was a brief pause before I got to the reason for my call. "Dad, could you help me inform Grandfather that I would like to see him on Friday afternoon if he has the time?"

He fell silent for a moment before probing, "Is there a problem?"

"No," I answered almost immediately. "I just need to speak with him about something."

He didn’t push further and then softly added, "If there’s anything I can assist you with, don’t hesitate to let me know."

"I know." A small smile found its way onto my face. "There is one thing, though."

"What is it?"

"Could you have Claire Scott and Laura Hart included in Vera’s wedding invitation?"

"Certainly. I will arrange it," he agreed without hesitation. If it had been my mother, I wouldn’t have even considered it.

I smiled. "Thank you, Dad."

"Take care of yourself."

"I will. And you should too."

We exchanged our goodnights before ending the call. I lowered my phone and looked quietly towards the window.

Friday suddenly didn’t seem so far away anymore.