She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 398

Robert took a cautious step forward. Looking at Lucian's dark, brooding profile that looked ready to drip ice, his Adam's apple bobbed. He braced himself and tried to smooth things over. "Mr. Shapiro, she was just trying to save her patient. She just went back to the hospital to perform a surgery, it's nothing... Should we... should we focus on investigating this kidnapping first?"

Robert's voice trailed off, rendered utterly feeble beneath the crushing, near-tangible atmospheric pressure radiating from Lucian.

Lucian didn't reply; he simply turned and walked away.

He had brought this all upon himself. He was the one who told her to keep her distance, and she was doing exactly that. It was his own fault that he couldn't control himself and kept interfering where he wasn't wanted.

...

Loyce rushed Holt back to the hospital. After a strict series of sterilization protocols, the operating room light flipped on. Holt was rolled onto the surgical table. Even now, his mind was still spinning. His dread over a ruined career had diminished, replaced entirely by the image of Loyce's striking, intensely focused eyes.

This girl was just too unique, leaving an indelible mark on everyone she met.

As the anesthesia kicked in, Loyce looked up at the titans of the surgical world, among them several retired military doctors who had been recruited back to the hospital. Together, they tackled this groundbreaking, unprecedentedly complex reconstructive surgery.

Because they had to meticulously repair Holt's vocal cord damage while ensuring aesthetic recovery of the incision, the procedure lasted until 7:00 PM.

The surgery was a total success—at least as far as Loyce was concerned. She had perfectly implanted the regenerative cells into the damaged tissue. The rest depended entirely on whether the biological cells could successfully regrow the ruined area.

Heath and the older doctors were completely drained. As they filed out of the operating room, they chatted among themselves. "Let's all grab a bite to eat. I'm going to crash the second my head hits the pillow tonight. One vocal cord reconstruction and I'm practically blind from exhaustion."

"What would you like to eat, Loyce? Let's go grab some food together."

Loyce shook her head. "I have something else to take care of tonight. You all go ahead."

The bidding for the 'Futura-Silicon' commercial spaces was set for 8:00 PM. Loyce certainly didn't have time for dinner. She politely declined Heath and the others' invitation, swiftly leaving the hospital and speeding on her motorcycle to the private styling studio Forrest Lonsdale had arranged for her.

Time was tight. She only had enough time for a quick shower to wash away the smell of hospital disinfectant and the dust from the road.

"Impossible!" A short, stout man immediately fired back, looking utterly convinced. "She's Mr. Shapiro's girlfriend! You think she couldn't handle a tiny thing like this? She's definitely just stuck in traffic!"

"Right, right, right, let's just wait a bit longer!" The others quickly comforted themselves, though their eyes kept darting nervously toward the entrance. Watching those business elites and family representatives walking in with their gold-stamped invitations, carrying themselves with such grace, only made the parents' jealousy and resentment grow heavier.

Just as the crowd was on the verge of despair, a deep, oppressive rumble of engines echoed from the road leading to the entrance.

A convoy of five midnight-black Rolls-Royce Phantoms, their sleek, imposing lines gleaming, rolled forward at a steady, majestic pace like a silent river of steel.

The iconic Spirit of Ecstasy hood ornaments sparkled brilliantly under the evening lights.

Wherever the motorcade passed, it carried an invisible, crushing pressure. Even the air seemed to turn sluggish.

"My god! Whose motorcade is that? What a flex!" someone gasped.