Chapter 82
"Mom, why so worked up?" Logan settled onto the sofa across from her, crossing his legs. "What's the rush?"
Ashley gave him a cold glance. "I asked you to take Juliana away. How's that going?"
"She's my brother's precious treasure now. How easy do you think it is?" Logan spread his hands nonchalantly.
"I want you to try a different approach."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Tell me."
Ashley leaned forward, staring at him intently as she enunciated each word. "I want you to seduce her. Make her willingly leave with you. I want you to leave evidence so your brother can see with his own eyes what kind of shameless, promiscuous woman he's been treasuring!"
Her eyes were full of venom.
The casual air gradually left Logan's face. This plan sounded much more thrilling than simply taking the woman away.
"And then?"
"Then," Ashley's expression grew even more ruthless, "take her overseas and handle it cleanly. I don't want to see this woman in the country anymore."
Those four words—"handle it cleanly"—were spoken lightly, yet carried a bone-chilling murderous intent.
Logan's eye twitched.
He whistled, his tone flippant. "Mom, this job won't come cheap. Destroying someone's reputation and then killing them—the risk is too high."
He was raising the price.
Ashley saw through his intentions. She pulled a black card from a nearby drawer and pushed it toward Logan.
"Down payment."
Logan's eyes lit up.
"After it's done," Ashley looked at his greedy expression and added, "that overseas division of Sharp Group you wanted—I'll give you a portion of it."
Logan hadn't expected Ashley to offer such a hefty price. He picked up the card, twirled it between his fingers, and his smile became genuinely sincere.
"Mom, don't worry. I'll handle it perfectly to your satisfaction."
Ashley waved her hand dismissively, as if even looking at him was tiresome.
Logan hummed a tune as he left the living room.
Billions of dollars in assets to buy a woman's reputation and life.
It was a bargain.
……
Night had fallen, and outside the window was silent.
Juliana looked expressionlessly at the man on the bed, sweat beading at his temples from pain.
"Are you sure you want to continue?" she asked.
Lucas's face was somewhat pale. His old injury had flared up, and painkillers weren't helping much anymore.
"Yes."
Juliana asked no more questions and leaned down to lift his shirt to his waist.
The man's back showed well-defined muscle lines, but several vicious old scars at his lower back marred the overall aesthetics.
She extended her fingers and gently pressed around the scar tissue.
Lucas's body instinctively tensed.
"Don't move."
Lucas's brow furrowed even tighter.
A moment later, Juliana straightened up, her lips curving into a rare, shallow arc. "Feel like a porcupine now, Mr. Sharp?"
Lucas lay on the bed, too pained to speak, only managing an almost inaudible hum from his nose—whether in agreement or protest was unclear.
In its place was a sore, numb, swelling sensation. Though still uncomfortable, it was far better than the sharp, piercing pain from before.
Juliana pulled over a chair and observed his reactions while waiting for the right time to remove the needles.
Lucas suddenly chuckled softly, breaking the silence.
"What's funny?" Juliana asked.
"I was remembering the first time you treated me—you almost kicked me out of bed." Lucas turned his head. "I was in so much pain I thought I'd die, and you were even rougher than you are now."
Juliana's eyes flickered, and she didn't respond.
Back then, she'd hated everyone in the Sharp family. Naturally, she hadn't been kind to him.
Lucas seemed to see through her distraction, his voice carrying a hint of inquiry.
"Juliana, I've always wanted to ask you something."
"Back then, why did you dislike me so much?"
Juliana lowered her eyes.
She certainly couldn't say it was because the Sharp family destroyed her family.
After a moment of silence, Juliana met his probing gaze. "The Mr. Sharp of that time was arrogant, proud, and dismissive of everyone. I don't think anyone would have liked you."
Rather than getting angry, Lucas actually laughed softly. The vibration in his chest pulled at his lower back injury, causing another muffled groan.
"You're right." He admitted it candidly. "Back then, I really wasn't a very likable patient."
He'd been volatile, irritable, trusting no one—like a porcupine covered in spines, injuring everyone who tried to get close.
Including her.
Even now, she was the only one who could get close.
Seeing him so frank, Juliana felt somewhat uncomfortable instead.
Lucas turned his face. "What about now?"
Now?
Juliana's heartbeat skipped.
Her cheeks began heating up beyond her control.
"Stop talking." Juliana snapped back to attention. To cover her loss of composure, she deliberately put on a stern face. "Do you want your back to work or not? If you keep moving around, don't blame me if you can't perform later."
The smile deepened in Lucas's eyes, and he stopped pressing.
Juliana secretly breathed a sigh of relief and refocused on the treatment, carefully observing his reactions and calculating the needle removal time.
Finally, it was time to remove the needles.
Juliana stood and leaned over him, gently removing each needle from the acupuncture points on his lower back.
As the last needle was withdrawn, Lucas's tense body finally relaxed.
Though still uncomfortable, at least he could breathe easier.
"That's it for tonight. Rest well, and I'll come again tomorrow morning."
She finished speaking and prepared to gather her things and leave.
"Juliana." Lucas suddenly called out to stop her.
Juliana paused and turned back to look at him.
"Thank you." His tone was very serious.
Juliana froze briefly, then softly hummed an acknowledgment before turning to leave the bedroom.
Not until the door closed did she lean against the wall outside, raising her hand to her burning cheeks.
Her heart was racing.
……
Meanwhile, at Logan's apartment, Logan lounged comfortably on the sofa, his face full of barely suppressed satisfaction.
That old woman Ashley was really willing to pay handsomely.
Still, he felt no guilt taking the money.
His phone vibrated on the coffee table.
Logan lazily glanced at it. Seeing the caller ID, his smile deepened.
It was his informant planted in Lucas's villa.
He leisurely answered. "Speak."
"Logan, Mr. Sharp... his old injury flared up."
Logan's hand, swirling his wine glass, paused. "Oh? Details."
"It was particularly bad tonight. He didn't even eat dinner. Just now I saw Dr. Juliana enter his bedroom, and she still hasn't come out. I heard from the servants inside that Mr. Sharp's face was white from pain—seems like he can't even get out of bed."
Can't get out of bed?
Logan's smile stretched wider and wider.
"Lucas, you have your day too!"