Chapter 112: Time Bomb
Lucas's fingertips applied just the right pressure as he massaged my right hand's old injury with gentle, rhythmic motions.
After learning about my hand injury, he specifically asked Roger about ways to relieve muscle strain and practiced massage techniques over and over. Now, every spot he pressed and kneaded felt soothing.
The warm yellow light cast soft shadows across his face. I watched his focused expression, my emotions like a lake disturbed by a thrown stone, rippling outward in messy circles.
After the massage, Lucas opened the dinner he'd brought.
White truffle cream pasta still steaming hot, grilled beef short ribs coated in caramelized sauce, cod in tomato sauce soaking in sweet and sour broth, and a piece of chocolate Basque cake with nuts—all my favorite flavors.
I'd cooked for Lucas for three whole years, and this was the first time I'd eaten food he prepared for me.
Lucas raised his hand to loosen his tie and said, "I asked our old cook. She told me some dishes you like."
He handed me a fork. "I hired a new foreign chef. Try it and see if you like it. If not, I'll get someone else. If you do, I'll have him make other things next time."
Next time?
I lowered my eyes, pretending not to catch the hint in his words, my gaze falling on the pink heart pattern on the fork handle.
This set of utensils was obviously newly bought. I could hardly imagine him standing in front of shelves full of merchandise, carefully selecting these cute little items.
Lucas brought over a dozen dishes—way more than I could finish.
He waited for me to eat first. Only after I'd had my fill did he leisurely clean up, eating every last bit of what I'd left behind.
After dinner, I thought Lucas would bring up Chaotic Zone, but he just casually tossed out "whatever you decide is fine" before getting up, grabbing his coat, and leaving—as if he'd really just come over for a simple meal.
I watched him disappear through the doorway, told Adrian and Cole to guard the door, and sat alone in my office, lost in thought.
When I snapped out of it, I found myself already dialing Oscar, Lucas's psychiatrist.
"Mr. Valeri has been taking his medication on time and has been very active in treatment. He even signed up for some relationship courses—things like 'How to Be a Good Partner,' 'Ten Rules for a Caring Lover,' and even 'Guide to Becoming Soulmates.'"
Oscar's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "But after three years with him, you should know his true nature—vicious, cold, arrogant, obsessive. This current 'normalcy' is just the surface of him forcibly suppressing himself. If one day he doesn't get the response he wants, or if the suppression reaches its limit, he might suddenly explode."
My knuckles gripping the phone turned slightly pale. I asked softly, "What would happen if he explodes?"
"Probably... he'd become even more desperate for your attention, wanting to be with you every single moment." Oscar put it delicately, but I understood.
The current Lucas was a ticking time bomb.
I let out a long breath, thanked him over the phone, and reminded him to keep this call confidential.
The next day at noon, Jonas came to find me, insisting we have lunch together.
That evening, Lucas showed up again with food carefully prepared by his chef.
The third day, the fourth day—Jonas found me for lunch, Lucas asked me to dinner, as if the two had coordinated in advance.
At first, I patiently went along with it, but as it kept happening, my already exhausting work schedule was draining enough—I couldn't even eat a single quiet meal. Irritation grew like weeds in my heart.
That day, I went to Chaotic Zone again. Matteo was waiting for me at the north entrance.
After just a few days, he seemed like a different person.
Clean, well-fitting clothes, neatly trimmed short hair, and a fresh minty scent of soap and shampoo.
Seeing me, he broke into a shy smile, showing two rows of neat teeth and a hint of pink gums.
After leaving last time, I'd had someone send Matteo a batch of supplies—a generator, a truckload of drinking water, instant food, warm clothing, and some common medicines.
These things were hard currency in Chaotic Zone.
I didn't give him any instructions—I just wanted to see how this Matteo, who'd been scraping by at the bottom, would use these resources.
"I divided up the supplies according to your wishes—no, I mean, I figured it out myself." Matteo noticed my gaze and scratched his head a bit sheepishly. "I kept half for our own use, and split the other half into two parts. One part went to the Night Wolves members, the other part helped out residents in our territory."
I raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
The people I'd sent to watch him had already reported that Matteo wasn't blindly charitable. He distributed supplies with discretion, specifically targeting people with skills or influence, and he didn't do it quietly—he made sure lots of people saw him giving things away.
With the remaining supplies, he kept some in reserve and traded the rest with other factions for weapons and to build connections.
Matteo's approach mostly satisfied me. I didn't want a savage who only knew how to fight. Though Matteo hadn't received a good education, he knew how to think and was good at adapting in practice.
I came to The Pack House again. This area had also changed dramatically.
My eyes swept around—the potholed, trash-covered paths had been cleaned up, the rotten smell in the air had faded considerably, and the beggars who used to huddle in corners were nowhere to be seen.
The crude tin shacks were still shabby, but much tidier.
"You did well." I withdrew my gaze and gave him genuine praise.
Matteo's eyes lit up instantly, his tense body relaxing. "I'll work even harder!"
The changes inside The Pack House were even more surprising. The previously bare walls now had some rough woven tapestries hanging on them, the uneven floor had been filled in with gravel, the ceiling bulbs had been replaced with new ones, and bright light filled every corner.
A woman in a floral dress was holding Irene's hand. Irene timidly hid behind the woman, watching me cautiously.
Matteo waved his hand and coaxed gently, "Remember Ms. Sorelli? Didn't you want to thank her?"
Irene clutched her clothes and slowly shuffled over to me. Looking up with her small face, she said very softly, "Thank you."
I patted her head, gave her a simple follow-up exam, then pulled a fruit candy from my pocket and handed it to her. "Go play."
Irene took the candy, unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth. The sweet taste made her eyes sparkle. She said "thank you" again in a clear voice and skipped back to the woman who'd been holding her hand.
I looked at Matteo standing straight beside me and lightly tapped my fingers on the table. "Tell me about it—the current situation in Chaotic Zone, and what you think."
Matteo's back stiffened even more, like a student taking an exam for the first time. He took a deep breath. "This area originally had eight major factions."