The air in the hospital room was thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic and the quiet hum of medical equipment. Lucas lay motionless on the hospital bed, his chest rising and falling in a slow, almost fragile rhythm. The oxygen mask on his face made him seem even more distant, as though he were already slipping away.
Madam Maeve stood beside him, her sharp eyes fixed on the machines that monitored his condition. Her grip tightened on the silk scarf draped over her arm, the fine material crumpling under the pressure of her fingers.
The doctor's words still echoed in her ears.
"The poison had already reached his heart before we could extract it. His body shut down on its own. Now, all we can do is wait."
Wait? Wait?
Madam Maeve's lips curled into a bitter smile. How laughable. The enemies who dared to do this—did they truly believe she would simply sit and wait?
Behind her, Miss Charlie stood in silence, sensing the storm brewing in the older woman's mind. Mr Nolan, her long-time aide, had stepped out to ensure the hospital staff understood the importance of discretion.
Finally, Madam Maeve turned, her voice calm yet laced with steel.
"Find out everything."
Miss Charlie bowed slightly. "Understood."
"I want to know every step he took since leaving that plane. Who he met. What he said. Everything."
Miss Charlie gave a sharp nod and immediately pulled out her phone, stepping out of the room to make calls.
Just as she left, Mr Nolan reentered, his expression grave.
"No one will speak of this," he assured her. "The hospital staff have been warned. If they leak, even a whisper"
His voice trailed off, but the threat was clear.
Madam Maeve exhaled slowly, turning back to her grandson. Her eyes softened for just a second before sharpening once more.
"Who do you suspect?" Mr Nolan asked.
A smirk formed on Madam Maeve's lips.
"Who else?" she murmured. "Who knew my grandson was returning? Who ordered his presence?"
She turned slightly, her gaze meeting Mr Nolan's with an almost amused glint.
"David Klein."
Mr Nolan's jaw clenched.
Klein. Of course. The man was nothing more than a snake, hiding behind his polished manners and business empire.
Madam Maeve's gaze returned to Lucas. They thought they had won. They thought they had silenced him.
How wrong they were.
But then Mr Nolan hesitated, glancing at her. "If you keep this hidden, what about the meeting next week?"
The tension in the room shifted.
For the first time since she stepped into the hospital, Madam Maeve faltered. The upcoming meeting was crucial. But without Lucas—without the person they expected—the entire balance of power could shift.
Her gaze lingered on her grandson's unconscious form.
She would find a way.
She always did.
The hospital room scene is switched as the afternoon sun lights up the city as a warehouse is shown. The small delivery office was lively, filled with the scent of cheap coffee and stacks of paper. Conversations buzzed around the room as employees sorted out shipments and filed paperwork.
Liam stepped inside, tossing his bag onto his desk with a tired sigh. Before he could even sit, one of his coworkers, Mick, leaned over with a conspiratorial grin.
"Finally decided to show up, huh?"
Liam snorted. "What, you missed me?"
"Not even close," Mick shot back. "But someone sure did. Guess who's been looking for you all morning?"
Liam rolled his eyes, stretching his arms. "If it's another cranky old lady demanding I hand-deliver her groceries again, I'm quitting."
"Nope."
Another coworker, Tan, leaned in dramatically. "It's the boss."
Liam froze mid-stretch. "What?"
Mick nodded solemnly. "Oh yeah. He's been asking about you since before lunch."
Tan lowered his voice, leaning closer. "Said he's got a special package for you."
Liam narrowed his eyes. "Define 'special'."
Mick grinned. "Code for 'you're about to have the worst day of your life'."
Tan shuddered. "Poor soul."
Liam sighed, rubbing his temples. "And none of you thought to warn me before I walked in?"
"We did," Mick said. "But watching you suffer is entertaining."
Liam opened his mouth to retort, but a familiar voice cut through the office.
"If you all have so much free time, I can fix that."
The chatter in the room died instantly.
Liam turned to see his boss—a sturdy, middle-aged man with graying hair-standing at the office door, arms crossed, one brow raised.
Everyone scattered.
Liam barely had time to roll his eyes before the boss gestured for him to follow.
The office was small and cluttered, the wooden desk covered in stacks of invoices and files. In the center of the desk sat a sleek, metal case no bigger than Liam's hand.
"Tianhu Company. "Deliver it before 2 PM," his boss instructed, sliding the package toward him.
Liam picked it up, weighing it in his palm. "Why me? The others were just standing around."
His boss smirked. "Because I trust you."
Liam squinted. "That sounds more like 'I don't trust the others not to mess up'."
The older man shrugged, neither confirming nor denying it.
Liam sighed, stuffing the package into his bag.
As he walked out of the office, his coworkers were waiting.
Like vultures.
Mick clapped a hand over his mouth in mock sorrow. "Gone too soon."
Tan dramatically wiped away a fake tear. "May your soul find peace in the afterlife."
Liam gave them both a flat look. "You guys are so annoying."
Mick smirked. "Oh? You're not worried?"
"Should I be?"
"Oh, definitely."
Tan stepped closer, lowering his voice. "That package is for Tianhu Company."
Liam frowned. "And?"
The entire office gasped.
Mick grabbed his shoulders, eyes wide. "Do you not know about Tianhu's receptionist?"
Liam scoffed. "What, is she rude?"
"Oh, she's legendary," Tan muttered. "She once made a delivery guy quit on the spot."
Another coworker added, "And rumor has it, she can make even the toughest guys cry."
Liam crossed his arms. "So what, you're all just cowards?"
Mick shook his head dramatically. "Bro. "Do you know who usually does Tianhu deliveries?"
"Who?"
"The boss himself."
Liam's eyes narrowed. "You're lying."
"Nope," Tan said. "She won't insult an old man, so he handles it personally."
Realization dawned.
Liam turned, staring at his boss—who was casually drinking tea in the corner, pretending not to hear a thing.
"He set me up."
The realization was met with solemn nods.
Liam sighed, staring at the package in his hands. "How much worse can my day get?"
Mick patted his shoulder. "Guess you're about to find out."