Amy Sinclair felt a surge of determination coursing through her veins. As long as Theodore Whitmore was willing to negotiate, there was still hope. Despite his sharp tongue, the man had a heart of gold. She remembered how he had offered invaluable advice when Liam had been born prematurely, his guidance helping her nurse the fragile infant back to health.

"Theodore, please, go ahead," Amy said, bracing herself.

Theodore studied her with his usual unreadable expression. "You mentioned you play the violin, didn’t you? I have several elderly patients who suffer from loneliness. I’d like to organize a small event for them. If you perform for them, I’ll provide the medicine you need. What do you say?"

Amy didn’t hesitate. "Of course, I’d be honored." She paused, then added, "Would it be all right if I brought my friend along to perform with me?"

Theodore’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if assessing her sincerity. "You’d really perform for a bunch of old folks?"

A soft laugh escaped her. "Before my mother passed, my friend and I often volunteered at orphanages and retirement homes. It’s something we’ve done before."

Theodore gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "Fine, it’s settled. Just don’t back out when things get tough."

"You have my word, Theodore. I never break a promise." She tilted her head. "When and where will the concert be held?"

He rubbed his chin. "Let’s say the end of the month. As for the location… I haven’t decided yet, but I’ll inform you."

Amy wasn’t particular about the venue, so she agreed easily.

As he handed her the medicine, Theodore fixed her with a stern look. "Once you take this, there’s no turning back. Even if a storm rolls in, you’ll be there to perform."

Amy met his gaze steadily. "I’ll be there, Theodore. You have my word."

With that, Theodore waved her off. "Good. Now, unless there’s something else, get going. I have work to do."

Amy bid him farewell and stepped out into the street.

The moment she disappeared from view, Theodore picked up his phone and dialed a number. "I’ve decided to return home."

Within minutes, a convoy of luxury cars pulled up outside his clinic. A group of well-dressed men and women hurried inside, their faces alight with excitement.

"Father! You’re finally coming home!" one of them exclaimed.

Theodore scowled at the spectacle. "What’s the meaning of this? Get those cars out of here!"

One of the men quickly signaled for the vehicles to be moved, while another approached Theodore cautiously. "Father, we’ve already prepared a welcome banquet. Let’s go now."

Theodore shot him a withering glare. "Did I say I was leaving immediately?"

The man blinked in confusion. "Then… what should we do?"

"I’ll return at the end of the month. Use my name to invite all the families associated with the Whitmores to a gathering."

The man’s face lit up. "Father, it’s wonderful that you’re finally making an appearance—"

Theodore cut him off sharply. "There’s something I need you to handle. Fail, and I’m not coming back."

"Just tell us, Father."

As Theodore relayed his instructions, the man’s expression shifted from disbelief to grim determination. He nodded firmly. "Consider it done."

Once his children had left, Theodore scoffed under his breath. "Those Blackwoods think they can push that girl around just because she has no family left. They’ll learn soon enough."