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Chapter 28 - Chapter 28:Elena, You’re Ruthless

"Or what? Or else you won't spare Sean?"

Elena narrowed her eyes, the corners of her lips curving with a sharp, almost mocking smile.

"Go ahead then, Dad. If you don't mind dragging us both down, feel free to make a move against Sean. Since I managed to convince Mr. Cheng to consider Sophia, don't you think I also have the power to ruin everything? Don't forget—three days from now is a very important day. You'd better be clear on which matters more."

Derek's fury boiled over.

"Elena, you're ruthless!"

She sneered.

"Not at all—I just learned from the best. You, Dad."

Beep, beep, beep—

The line went dead. Derek had hung up, but Elena could no longer hold her smile.

Yes, within these three days Derek wouldn't dare touch Sean. But what about after?

Once Sophia and Felix's matter was sealed, Derek would lose all fear. Especially now that their relationship had completely fractured, Derek, Lynn, and Sophia together meant Sean's situation would be dangerously unstable.

She had to find a way to protect Sean. She couldn't let these wolves and tigers anywhere near him.

But she wasn't strong enough. She didn't have the time to slowly grow stronger either. The only way was to find a powerful force to rely on.

A powerful force.

Elena slowly lifted her gaze toward the tightly closed bathroom door.

At that very moment, it swung open.

Lucian stepped out, this time not wrapped in a towel but already changed into loungewear. He rubbed at his damp hair with a towel as he walked forward.

"Meow~"

The ragdoll cat jumped up, circling his ankles and rubbing against him with a fawning sweetness.

Elena's eyes lit up, and she instinctively tried to follow.

But Lucian casually lifted his foot, nudging the cat away.

"Go play somewhere else." His tone was flat.

"???"

Elena watched the poor cat tumble twice across the floor. She swallowed hard, pulling back the step she had just taken and forcing out a painfully awkward smile.

"If you don't want to smile, then don't. You look pathetic."

The cold words landed from a meter away.

Lucian sat on the edge of the bed, continuing to dry his hair.

The ragdoll cat, pitiful as ever, crept back and leapt into his lap, rubbing its head against him with a plaintive, "Meow~."

This time, Lucian didn't push it away. He even reached out to stroke its head.

The cat purred with narrowed eyes, curling in his arms like it belonged there.

Elena felt a flicker of hope. She darted into the bathroom, grabbed the hair dryer, and came back out to stand before him, clutching the cord nervously.

"I… I can blow-dry your hair for you. Would that be okay?"

Her voice was soft, filled with cautious flattery.

He said nothing, only tossed the towel onto the nightstand with a dull thud.

Her heart jolted. She was still terrified of him—because she never knew what went on in his mind, when his face would suddenly darken, or when anger would flare without warning.

All she could do was serve carefully.

"What are you waiting for?" His brows knit, impatience flashing in his eyes. "Dry my hair."

Joy lit up her face, lifting even her tone.

"Okay, right away."

She quickly plugged it in, tested the settings on her hand, adjusted until it was just right, and then carefully began blow-drying his hair.

His hair was thick and black, taking longer than expected to dry. Elena's right hand, injured years ago, was never as strong as before. Holding the dryer too long made it ache and tremble.

But she bore it, patiently drying his hair little by little.

The warm air blew across her own face too, making her drowsy, lulled by the quiet rhythm.

"All done."

She finally shut it off, offering him a gentle smile.

"Your hair's dry now. Doesn't it feel nice?"

When she smiled, her almond eyes curved softly, the faint dimple in her cheek making her look so obedient.

For a fleeting second, Lucian was transported back—

The first time she came to Southville to find him.

A thirteen-year-old girl, waving excitedly, calling his name with a voice bright as silver bells.

"Lucian! Lucian!"

Eyes like stars. A light that had once quietly fallen into his heart.

Suddenly, her wrist was seized in a crushing grip. The dryer slipped from her hands, clattering against the floor.

Elena blinked in shock, not yet understanding what was happening.

The next moment, he yanked.

She stumbled forward, straight into his arms.

"Meow!!"

Startled, the cat leapt away.

Pain shot through her wrist—it felt like he might snap the bone.

She winced, raising her eyes into his—dark, narrow, a bottomless sea ready to storm.

His lips moved, his voice icy.

"Why?"

Her lashes trembled. Confused, she whispered, "W-what?"

"Back then. Why did you…"

His words stopped abruptly.

It was as if he suddenly woke from a memory. His gaze shifted, the storm vanishing in an instant. He released her, stood, and strode out of the room.

"You should rest."

And he was gone.

Elena stared blankly after him, bewildered.

"Meow~"

The little cat tilted its head at her, adorable and innocent.

Her heart softened. She crouched, stroking its head with a sigh.

"Your master has the strangest temper."

"Meow!"

It agreed, curling into her arms.

"It's called Marshmallow."

The words came with a cheerful lilt from the doorway.

Elena looked up to see a young maid carrying a tray. She smiled warmly as she entered.

"Sir chose the name himself."

Elena's lips twitched. Honestly, she would never believe Lucian had named the cat Marshmallow. The name didn't match him at all.

The maid set the tray down, revealing neatly folded clean clothes.

"Madam, my name is Crystal. From today on, I'll be taking care of your daily needs."

Her implication was clear—Elena would be living here from now on.

Elena's eyes widened slightly. "That was… Sir's idea?"

Crystal nodded, still smiling.

"Of course."

What on earth was Lucian thinking?

Why did it feel like she could never truly understand him?

"Is sir still home right now?" Elena asked.

"No, madam. He's in the study, working." Crystal checked the time—it was already close to eleven.

Elena hesitated, then asked, "Crystal, could I borrow the kitchen for a bit?"

Crystal blinked, misunderstanding at first. "If you'd like something to eat, just let me know. I'll have the kitchen prepare it immediately."

"It's not for me." Elena shook her head. "It's so late already, and your sir is still working. He must be hungry. I'd like to cook something for him myself."

Crystal froze for a moment, then broke into a genuine smile.

"Sir will be very pleased."

Would he?

Elena hardly dared believe it. Lucian loathed her—how could he possibly be pleased?

But she had no other way to win his favor. This was all she could try.

Crystal led her to the kitchen.

"Shall I assist you, madam?"

"No need. Just some noodles—it won't take long." Elena mustered a smile. "Go do your own work, I'll be fine on my own."

"Very well, madam."

Crystal scooped up the mischievous Marshmallow and left.

Ten minutes later, Elena stood outside the study, balancing a steaming bowl of egg noodles. She knocked softly.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in."

Just two words, spoken with his usual cold indifference.

She opened the door. Smoke drifted through the air, the faint scent of tobacco striking her nose.

The desk lamp cast its muted glow. He sat behind the desk, cigarette between his fingers, pale, slender hands tapping across his laptop keyboard.

Wisps of smoke blurred his sharp features, but the nobility in his bearing was impossible to mask.

Elena stepped inside. Passing behind him, her eyes flickered to the computer screen—it was filled with long lines of French she couldn't understand.

Once again she couldn't help sighing at the gap between a former top student and a hopeless struggler like herself.

Not daring to interrupt, she set the noodles down and sat quietly nearby, gazing at the bowl with a trace of melancholy.

"What are you doing here?"

His cold voice finally cut through the silence.

Elena straightened instantly, carrying the bowl over with both hands. Her voice was soft, almost timid.

"I was afraid you hadn't eaten. I made you noodles—would you like to try them?"

Lucian stubbed out his cigarette, his tone glacial.

"Isn't there anyone else in the kitchen? You thought it had to be you?"

Through the thin haze, she could still see the displeasure in his eyes.

"No, I… I wanted to do it for you," she explained quickly.

His gaze slid down from her anxious face to the bowl in her hands. His eyes narrowed.

"The noodles are soggy."

"I… I left them sitting a little too long, yes," she admitted. Then hurriedly added, "But I can make another bowl for you. Don't worry—it'll only take ten minutes."

"No need. Leave it. Go out."

His voice was as detached as ever, but Elena's chest tightened with urgency.

She only had three days. No one knew what tomorrow would bring. In truth, even seeing Lucian again within these three days was far from guaranteed.

This might be her only chance. How could she waste it?

"Still here?"

Sensing his growing impatience, Elena quickly placed the bowl before him, forcing a smile that deepened her dimples.

"Why don't I wait until you've finished? Then I can take the dishes back down."

She offered the chopsticks with both hands.

"Here."

He took them without a word, lowered his head, and began to eat while continuing to type responses she couldn't comprehend.

He ate as he did everything—silently, with control. Even noodles made no sound between his lips.

But the furrow between his brows betrayed how poor he found the taste.

Still, he ate it all. When he reached for a tissue, Elena was already there, holding one out.

His gaze dipped to her hand, then rose slowly back to her face. A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes before shadow overtook it.

"Leave."

Her heart lurched. She wanted to run, but Sean's face filled her mind. Her feet wouldn't move.

Sean was her life. For him, she'd walk through blades, leap into fire.

"Lucian, I… I have something to ask of you." Her fists clenched at her sides as she forced the words out.

"My father and his people—they'll hurt Sean. Please, can you help me protect him?"

A low, bitter laugh escaped him.

"Sean. Always Sean."

Sean, again.

Always that bastard Sean!

Lucian's lips curved into a chilling smile, his eyes gleaming with a ruthless, dangerous light.

All her patience, her careful flattery, her tiny gestures—blowing his hair dry, cooking him a meal—none of it was for him. It was all for that boy.

His voice was cold enough to cut.

"So what now? You feed me one bowl of noodles and suddenly think you can bargain with me?"

The look in his eyes terrified her, but she couldn't back down. She grabbed at his sleeve.

"Lucian, no, that's not what I mean. Please don't be angry, Sean—"

"Enough!"

He tore her hand off, eyes seething with loathing.

"Elena, don't fool yourself. You're nothing but a cheap thing I bought. In my eyes, you're not even worth a dog. And you think you can negotiate with me?"

The words cut deep, stealing her breath.

Still, as he picked up his laptop and strode out, she stumbled after him, voice breaking.

"Lucian!"

Crash—!

He whirled, hurling the laptop at her feet.

Shattered pieces scattered across the floor. His voice was low and hoarse, vibrating with fury.

"Elena, don't you dare push me too far."

Stunned, she stood frozen—until instinct drove her forward. She clutched him desperately, tears trembling in her eyes.

"Lucian, I was wrong. I won't ever beg you again… I swear I won't. Please, don't be angry with me."

But he only pried her arms away and flung her to the ground.

Looking down at her, his gaze dripped with disgust, as if she were nothing but a rat crawling from the filth of the gutter.

"Elena, you make me sick."

Bang!

The door slammed shut. He was gone.

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