I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra and Steven) novel Chapter 397

But if Steven was truly seriously injured, Mr. Lancaster Sr. would undoubtedly side with his grandson, and I couldn't press the issue.

I bit my lip. "Where is Steven?"

Gordon gave me the address and added a careful warning. "Ms. Jones, Mr. Lancaster has been in poor health and a foul mood recently. He doesn't have much patience. If you decide to get involved, don't take too long. Otherwise, you can imagine the consequences."

"Tell him to wait," I said, grinding my back teeth. I hung up and turned to see Ryan staring at me expectantly. "Zephyra, was that Steven's call?"

I looked at him and decided against telling him the whole truth. "It was Gordon. Take me to the hospital. I'm going to check on Steven. While I'm there, you can help me pick out a gift. After I'm done with Steven, we'll go see Grandpa Marico together."

Ryan was instantly displeased. "That bastard didn't really threaten you, did he?"

Not yet, but I was about to find out what his threats were.

"He can't threaten me. I'm not a child," I said. "And out of respect for Grandpa Marico, he wouldn't dare push me too far."

Ryan wanted to come with me, but I stopped him.

"Steven can't move right now, so it's fine. I'm just going to see how badly he's hurt."

Ryan just said, "Zephyra, I hit him, but I wasn't stupid enough to leave evidence lying around. Don't let him scare you."

I nodded, and only then did he agree to drive me to the hospital.

On the way, I got a call from my mentor.

Mr. Taylor cheerfully asked how I was doing before getting to the point. "Kiddo, I hear there's a jade exhibition in Ixia recently, and some fine pieces have been unearthed. You'll likely be heading to Sonha for a competition after you get back, so you should start preparing your materials."

I agreed. Mr. Taylor chattered on, urging me to quickly resolve my personal matters and resume my studies with him. He was eager to sample my new tea blends.

He added that a designer's reputation was paramount, often more so than the story or concept behind a piece. If I wanted to succeed, I needed to capitalize on the momentum from my win at the newcomer's competition and keep racking up victories to maintain my visibility.

Gordon quickly interjected, "Mr. Lancaster is very seriously injured. He already had a headache, and now he has a broken rib and his right leg is in a cast. His whole body is covered in bruises from the beating. It's just his face that's mostly okay, which is why he might not look that bad."

At his words, my gaze traveled down and I saw the cast on Steven's leg. My brows knitted together.

That kid Ryan was far more ruthless than I was.

"What are your terms?"

Finally, the victim of the beating looked up from his computer screen. His handsome, indifferent face was calm, and his eyes fixed on me as a mocking smile touched his lips.

"Didn't you say yesterday that you would never see me again? Why are you here today?"

"That was the plan, but you're a deceitful bastard," I said, stepping closer to him, my eyes sharp. "If you really wanted a fight, who knows who'd be lying in this bed right now. At the very least, Ryan wouldn't have gotten off with just a scratch."

"You clearly set a trap for Ryan, and then at the perfect moment, you called to tell me you were pressing charges, forcing me to come see you. Isn't that right?"