Chapter 182

Chapter 182

Facing Alan's accusations, Lucas didn't get angry.

He just stood there quietly, looking at this boy who was full of reckless courage yet hopelessly naive.

"You're not strong enough to go up against the Garcia family right now."

Lucas's voice was cold and blunt, instantly cutting through Alan's last line of defense.

"One word from Jasper and he can freeze all your cards and strip away every privilege you have. What would you have left to back Angela up with? Your hot-headedness? Your helpless rage?"

"You!" Alan's face went pale with fury as he swung his fist forward.

Lucas didn't even flinch. He just looked at him coldly. "Go ahead. Hit me. Will that one punch change the fact that you have nothing right now? Alan, if a man wants to protect someone, he first needs to make himself strong enough to do it. Fighting me here out of pride isn't going to do anything except waste her treatment time."

He stepped closer, tilting the umbrella to cover Angela completely, leaving his own back exposed to the cold rain.

"Go back to the Garcia family. When you've built a solid position there, when you're strong enough to stand against me, then you'll have the right to stand here and tell me to get lost."

Every word Lucas said cut deep, but every word was true.

"Right now, you have no choice but to leave her with me. Because I'm the only one who can get her access to the best medical care in the world. I'm the only one who can keep her alive."

Alan's fist froze in mid-air, shaking violently.

He glared at Lucas, but he couldn't say a word in return. Because he knew Lucas was right.

Against real power and money, everything he could do right now meant nothing.

"Alan, listen to him." Angela gently tugged at the hem of his jacket, her voice quiet but firm.

"I want to see you stand on your own two feet, not throw everything away fighting with the family over me and end up with nothing. Wait for me to come home."

Alan looked at his sister's pale but gentle face. All his anger and resentment slowly collapsed into a deep, heavy helplessness.

He closed his eyes. Two tears slid down his face. He slammed his fist against the car door and lowered his head.

The next day, the sky was still gray, but the rain had stopped.

A cold wind swept across the tarmac of the private airport.

At the far end of the runway sat a top-of-the-line medical jet bearing The Conway Group logo.

The weight of the farewell was almost suffocating.

Frances held Angela tight, sobbing uncontrollably. "Angela, you have to be okay... please, just come back alive. I'm still waiting for us to go try that new restaurant together..."

Chrissy walked up with red-rimmed eyes, a little awkwardly taking Angela's hand. "Angela, I'm sorry. I know I was selfish before and caused you so much trouble. Please come back safe. We'll all be waiting for you."

Edward and Richard stood nearby, their faces heavy with sadness.

There was so much they all wanted to say.

But what they all wanted, more than anything, was for Angela to come home safe.

Looking at the friends who had come to see her off, Angela realized she wasn't scared at all.

She felt something warm instead — the realization that there were so many people in this world who loved her.

She had been too caught up before, thinking that without romantic love, no one truly loved her.

"Let's take a photo together!" Angela said with a smile.

In the end, Lucas helped take a picture of her and her friends in front of the plane.

"Time to go, Angela. It's windy."

Lucas carefully tucked the blanket around her one last time, then personally pushed her wheelchair toward the boarding gate.

"Wait!" Alan suddenly ran after them.

He looked at Lucas, and for the first time, his voice was calm. "I'm trusting you with my sister. Please — bring her back safe."

Lucas nodded. He didn't say a word.

The cabin door slowly closed.

Lucas had arranged the jet himself. Inside, it was essentially a mobile mini-ICU. It had a state-of-the-art sterile unit, ventilators, and cardiac monitors. The team on board included not only the top hematology specialist Charles had recommended, but also a professional medical transport team sent by Harborview Medical Center.

The flight lasted over ten hours. For most of it, Angela slept due to her medication.

Every time she briefly opened her eyes, Lucas was there by her side. His eyes were bloodshot, stubble had grown along his jaw, and he looked worn out.

But his hand held hers — gentle, steady, as if letting go for even a moment might make her disappear.

When the plane finally landed in Shadow City, a dedicated ambulance was waiting on the tarmac and took Angela directly to a top-tier private room at Harborview Medical Center.

The room was quiet and comfortable. Outside the window, lush greenery filled the view, and warm sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the bed, making it feel almost nothing like a hospital.

"Ms. Andrews, hello. I'm your attending physician, Dr. Daniel Wilson."

The world-renowned CAR-T therapy specialist came in person, accompanied by his elite team.

He walked Angela through the upcoming treatment plan.

It was only then, through the doctor, that Angela learned just how far Lucas had gone for her.

Not only had he pulled every connection he had two weeks earlier to secure one of the few precious spots in the clinical trial — he had also bought a villa with a private garden near the hospital to give her the best possible environment to recover in. On top of that, he had donated tens of millions of dollars in research funding to the medical team under The Conway Group's name.

His only condition: Angela's treatment plan had to be the best and safest in the world.

Angela lay back against the pillow, looking at the cutting-edge medical equipment around her — things she had never even seen back home — and at the private security guards standing watch outside the door. Across the room, Lucas stood by the window, quietly giving Evan instructions.

All of this was more than enough to settle what he owed her.

A quiet afternoon at Harborview Medical Center.

Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft, almost dreamlike warmth across the cold hospital room.

Outside, a grove of oak trees stood full and green.

The call ended.

Lucas rubbed his temples, exhausted. When he turned around, his face held nothing but a careful, quiet tenderness.

He walked softly to the bedside and looked at Angela, who had woken up. "You're up? How are you feeling? Do you want some water?"

Angela leaned against the headboard and looked at him in silence.

There was no resentment in her eyes, no anger — just a calm that somehow made his chest tighten.

"Lucas, go home." Angela spoke slowly, her voice hoarse and faint, but carrying an unmistakable distance.

Lucas froze mid-pour.

He turned his head and forced a small smile, pretending he hadn't heard her.

"Angela, here — drink some water." He held the glass out to her.