Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 219

Chapter 219 Some Benefits

Chapter 219 Some Benefits

135 Free Goins

Margaret headed into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, staring at the marks trailing down her neck—impossible to miss, impossible to cover up. She pressed her fingers to her temple and let out a slow breath.

Walking into the hospital looking like this, Cheiron would clock it instantly. That man could probably deduce exactly when, how long, and which position.

There was no dodging it. Managing this balancing act was becoming a full-time job.

Whatever, I’m the one in charge.

She didn’t bother with a turtleneck or any kind of cover-up. She threw on a loose, lightweight trench coat and headed downstairs.

Tyrone was lounging on the sofa, flipping a coin. Quentin sat quietly beside him. Both of them looked up at the sound of her footsteps.

Tyrone’s gaze caught on her collar and held there for a solid two seconds. The coin paused mid-spin between his fingers, then vanished into his palm.

He raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with open amusement. “Ms. Greene, the mosquitoes on Prime Planet are vicious. That’s quite a bite.”

Margaret walked over, dropped into the armchair, and poured herself a glass of water. She didn’t so much as adjust her collar. “I was wondering the same thing. It’s the Interstellar Era. Greven was out here running live experiments, and somehow nobody’s managed to wipe out mosquitoes.”

Tyrone choked on a laugh at her completely unapologetic delivery.

Quentin stayed silent, his gaze locked on those marks. The ups of his ears had gone an unmistakable shade of red, but the look in his eyes churned with a very different emotion.

“Alright, Business.” Margaret finished her water and set the glass down. “Prime Planet is a mess right now. You two have sensitive profiles, so stay inside the villa as much as possible. If anyone sneaks in, take them out. This is Hurst Group private property now-it’ll count as self-defense,”

Tyrone’s lazy grin sharpened into something more focused. “Leave it to me. But Ms. Greene, have you considered handing out some benefits to Quentin and me? All work and no reward tends to kill a man’s

motivation.”

Quentin’s head snapped toward his brother, a glare cutting across his crimson eyes-but the way his ears. stayed pricked betrayed him.

Margaret had grown more or less accustomed to Tyrone’s shamelessness by now. She shot him a flat look. “We’ll see about that depending on performance.”

Rapid footsteps sounded on the stairs. Timothy came down in a low-profile black outfit, his golden hair hastily finger-combed. He crossed straight to Margaret and slid his arm around her waist with practiced ease. “My Lady, I’m ready. Let’s go.”.

Tyrone clicked his tongue at the sight of Timothy plastered against Margaret’s side, but Timothy didn’t

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Chapter 219 Some Benefits

spare him so much as a glance. He tugged Margaret toward the door.

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The hovercar had been stripped of its Hurst Group insignia and fitted with the most generic civilian shell available. It slipped into Central Hospital’s underground garage without drawing a single eye, following the route Cheiron had arranged in advance.

With Lesley on the verge of death, the hospital perimeter had been packed with informants from every faction for days.

The private elevator ascended straight to the top-floor ICU. The moment the doors opened, the sharp scent of antiseptic hit them. At the end of the corridor, Cheiron stood in his white coat, back straight.

He turned at the sound. Their eyes met. He didn’t move.

His hair was slightly disheveled, heavy dark circles shadowed the skin beneath his eyes from nights without sleep. The moment his gray eyes registered her standing there, something tightened in his gaze- a look far too complex to pin down.

Margaret read every layer of it. She walked toward him.

“I’m back,” she said.

Cheiron’s throat worked. He lifted his hand, reaching toward her face-and then his eyes fell, inevitably, on her open collar. Those marks were impossible to miss.

His hand stopped midair, and did not close the distance. A flash of something sharp and bitter moved through his gray eyes-jealousy, raw and swift-before he forced it back down.

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