Messing With Her? Are You Crazy! novel Chapter 1704

Only then did Serena sink comfortably back against him.

As she watched the bids relentlessly skyrocket on the screen, she casually played with his long fingers. "I didn't suffer through the exhaustion of synthesizing that formula just to play small. I did it to build a massive nest egg."

"The more money I make..." She dragged out the syllables, glancing up at him through her lashes, "The better. After all, I need to use these funds to buy a surprise for my Patron."

"Oh?" Nicholas looked down at her. "So this surprise is entirely for me?"

"Naturally." Her smile deepened, a wicked cunning flashing in her eyes. "I've already got my eye on a batch of incredibly rare medical ingredients. Once this money clears, I'm buying the entire lot so I can finalize The Lifetime Bespoke Medical Protocol specifically for you."

She tapped his chest gently. "From now on, whether you're wounded, poisoned, or drawing your absolute last breath..."

"You come to me. Your injuries, your ailments, and your very life itself—they all belong to me."

Serena locked eyes with him, flashing a predatory, enchanting smile. "How does that surprise sound, my Patron?"

Nicholas stared intently at her, a dark, suffocating intensity suddenly surging within his depths.

His grip around her waist tightened incrementally.

"Lifetime?" His gaze was a bottomless abyss as he burned into her.

Serena smirked fearlessly. "What? Is that too long of a commitment for you?"

Nicholas gave a low chuckle. He leaned down, his lips practically grazing her earlobe, his hot breath sending electric shivers down her spine.

"It sounds perfect." His voice was raw and heavy. "But since you said 'lifetime,' Ms. Panacea, you can never take it back."

Serena smiled. "As long as you can afford my price, Mr. Sovereign, I wouldn't dream of it."

Their banter was meant entirely for each other.

Yet, transmitting perfectly through the concealed bug, the conversation was eagerly consumed by the head of the medical division and his senior executives crammed into the surveillance room. The executive nervously wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

Although they had aggressively inspected every inch of The Med-Tech Quarantine earlier and found zero anomalies...

The Commodore's terrifyingly ambiguous stance had left the man in a panic.

The bidding war for the serum was drawing to a brutal close.

Once the price blew past the three hundred million dollar mark, the vast majority of the floor had been forced to fold.

The last man standing was Dante Varga, a high-stakes tycoon who lived under the constant shadow of assassination.

It was widely rumored that Dante faced no less than a dozen attempts on his life every single year.

His security detail had been butchered and replaced more times than anyone could count.

Years ago, a massive explosion had left his central nervous system severely damaged.

For a man in his position, an S-Rank Neural Repair Serum wasn't an accessory—it was an absolute lifeline.

Money could always be printed.

But if you lost your life, you lost everything.