Chapter 85
Uriah’s face betrayed a flicker of pride at her words, though he said curtly, “Don’t think flattery will get you anywhere. I’m not treating anyone just because you butter me up.”
Sharon answered sincerely, “Then may I ask, what would make you willing to help?”
He shot her a sidelong glance. “If you’re really that determined, start by doing chores around here. When I’m satisfied, I’ll consider it. How about that?”
Sharon didn’t hesitate. “Alright.”
Uriah looked at her with mild surprise.
At first, he’d assumed she was the one needing treatment. But her complexion was clear, her energy steady-nothing about her screamed illness. She looked like just another wealthy girl with too much time and too little purpose. He’d seen his fair share of those in his younger days-idle young ladies inventing ailments just to pass the time.
So he made it hard on her. Every unpleasant, exhausting task he could think of, he pushed onto her. When she misidentified herbs, he’d scold her viciously, loud enough to echo through the whole clinic. He’d even made her cry a few times.
But she kept showing up-on time, every day.
After about six months, Uriah finally relented. She didn’t seem to be sick, true, but she was sincere. Persistent. That was rare enough. So he decided to hear her out.
Only then did he learn: Sharon wasn’t asking for herself. She was trying to get medicine for her mother-in-law.
That changed things. Filial devotion like that-he didn’t see much of it anymore.
His impression of her softened immediately.
And through their conversations, he eventually discovered who she was-Mrs. Biggs, wife of Carter Biggs, president of the Biggs Group.
From then on, for the past two years, he’d been preparing medicine for Madeline’s headaches. It was an old condition, the kind that took years to mend. But he figured, with another year or so, she’d be free of the pain completely.
But then the last six months happened-Carter and Kelly, flaunting themselves so openly even a man like Uriah, who rarely paid attention to the news, couldn’t ignore it.
And in all that time, only Sharon had ever come to him. Carter never once showed his face.
That alone had Uriah fuming.
“I’ll help you one last time, and only because of how much you’ve done for me,” he said, pulling off his reading glasses with a sharp huff. “But your husband has to come with you. This is medicine for his mother-what, is filial piety something you can outsource now?”
Sharon knew how much Uriah loathed the wealthy, especially the kind who tried to wave money around like a magic wand. Families like the Biggs’s-arrogant, entitled-were the exact type he disdained.
She paused for a moment, then said quietly, “This is the last time, Mr. Malcolm. Please… I need the medicine to save a friend.”
Uriah raised a brow. “To save your friend?”
She nodded. “She crossed someone she shouldn’t have. So now…”
Uriah had lived long enough to recognize what wasn’t being said. Her words painted a clear enough picture.
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He couldn’t hold back his anger. “Is that bastard husband of yours threatening you? Shameless! He won’t come himself but grabs your friend to make a point? That’s low, even for him!”
Sharon shook her head gently. “You’ve misunderstood. It’s true that my friend made the first mistake.”
Though she hated Carter, she wasn’t the kind to twist the truth. She explained the whole situation, plainly and honestly.
She knew the kind of man Uriah was. He didn’t care about money. What he valued most was sincerity.
Trying to deceive him would only backfire.
After a long silence, Uriah finally looked up.
“I’ll help you,” he said. “But only if you agree to one condition.”
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