Chapter 100

Chapter 100

As soon as the words left his mouth, Liam raised his hand and smacked the subordinate hard on the head.

"Don't ask what you shouldn't ask, don't say what you shouldn't say!" Liam glared at him, his tone full of warning. "Mr. Stuart's business—is that something you can speculate about?"

"Do your job properly and keep her safe. If anything goes wrong, I'll skin you alive first! If you dare gossip again, go receive your punishment yourself!"

The subordinate instantly didn't dare say another word. He quickly covered his head, nodded, and immediately set off for the hotel with his team.

Liam watched their retreating figures and shook his head helplessly. Never mind his subordinates being curious—even he couldn't figure out what Damien was thinking.

But after following Damien for so many years, he only needed to understand one thing.

Whatever Damien ordered, just do it.

At this moment in the study, only Damien remained.

He slowly leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Uncontrollably, the scene from that day in the boutique fitting room surfaced in his mind again.

In that cramped, enclosed space, she had her back to him, wearing only that black velvet gown.

Her fair back was exposed, her delicate shoulder blades trembling slightly with her movements, like a butterfly about to take flight.

When his fingertips touched the skin on her back, he could clearly feel her body's instant tremor.

The delicate, warm sensation traveled like an electric current from his fingertips all the way to his heart.

As he slowly pulled up her zipper, his fingertips traced along her spine.

Her suppressed breathing brushed across his heart like a feather, unbearably ticklish.

Obviously shy beyond measure, yet forcing herself to appear composed.

Her image was etched bit by bit into his mind, impossible to shake off.

Even when kidnapped by Jacques, trapped in danger, she showed not a trace of cowardice.

This woman was too special.

So special that in his twenty-eight years of life, this was the first time he'd had such thoughts about a woman.

"The person I'm looking for is my fiancée, Beatrice."

Fiancée.

That word pierced his heart like a thorn.

Damien's eyes snapped open, his smoke-blue irises instantly churning with overwhelming hostility, the pressure around him dropping frighteningly.

He closed his eyes, forcibly suppressing the surging emotions, and pressed the call button at the corner of his desk.

Within seconds, Liam strode in and bowed. "Mr. Stuart, your orders?"

"Is everything arranged?" Damien asked, his tone revealing no emotion.

"All arranged! Twelve men, twenty-four-hour watch around the hotel. Inside and out, all surveillance points are set. We can absolutely guarantee Ms. Sinclair's safety—no accidents whatsoever, and definitely won't disturb Ms. Sinclair's competition preparation."

Liam immediately replied, his tone respectful.

Damien nodded slightly. Without asking more about this matter, he fell silent for a few seconds before speaking: "Make preparations. In a while, I'm returning home."

Liam froze, then immediately understood.

Dr. Johnson had said before that to completely heal Damien's spleen and pancreas injuries without leaving complications, he must return home to find top doctors and slowly recuperate with herbal medicine and acupuncture.

He'd been worrying about how to persuade Damien to return home for treatment. After all, Damien had been rooted in Luminous City for so many years—The Crimson Brotherhood's foundation was here. He wouldn't leave easily.

He never expected Damien to bring it up himself.

Liam immediately nodded. "Yes! I'll arrange it at once! Only..."

He paused, confusion crossing his face. "Mr. Stuart, we haven't contacted any of the renowned physicians from Dr. Johnson's recommendation letters yet. Should we wait until we've made contact and arranged everything properly before you depart?"

"Otherwise, once back home in unfamiliar territory, I'm afraid it might delay your treatment."

Damien smiled at this.

He looked up at Liam, his tone casual: "Can't contact them?"

"I saved her life. Asking her to help find a reliable doctor to treat my condition—such a small matter, would she really refuse?"

Liam froze instantly, his mind buzzing as he finally fully understood.

Damien wasn't returning home for treatment at all!

He was clearly going after Beatrice!

Liam stood rooted to the spot, unable to recover for a long moment.

Damien glanced at him, his smoke-blue eyes devoid of warmth, and spoke flatly: "Why are you standing there like an idiot? Can't you understand what I'm saying?"

That single glance sent cold sweat instantly down Liam's back. He quickly bowed. "Yes! I understand! I'll arrange the return home immediately, guaranteed without any errors!"

With that, he turned to flee, afraid that staying even one more second would expose Damien's unspoken intentions.

But just as his foot moved half a step, Damien's voice rang out again: "Stop."

Liam's footsteps froze in place.

He slowly turned around, his face wearing a respectful smile. "Mr. Stuart, is there anything else?"

Damien looked at his cautious appearance, the corner of his mouth curving into a slight smile.

"What I just said isn't urgent." His fingertips paused, then he continued, "Go get me an entry ticket to that international design competition Beatrice is participating in."

Liam was completely dumbfounded.

A ticket? What ticket? A competition entry ticket?

This meant Damien was...

Going to watch Beatrice's competition in person?

He'd just specifically instructed them to operate covertly and not disturb Beatrice's preparation, and now he wanted to go to the venue himself?

He didn't dare ask more questions. Keeping his head lowered, he respectfully replied, "Yes, I understand. I'll handle it right away! I guarantee I'll get a ticket with the best view, absolutely no errors!"

"Mm." Damien responded indifferently and waved his hand. "Go."

Liam bowed and retreated. Only after the door closed completely did he let out a long breath.

He raised his hand and patted his wildly beating chest.

With a look of lingering shock, he muttered, "My God! This isn't about returning home for treatment at all—he's dead set on pursuing Ms. Sinclair!"

He muttered a few more words, then quickly covered his mouth and looked around alertly.

The corridor was empty except for patrolling subordinates standing far away, completely unable to hear his words.

Only then did he relax. Not daring to linger, he hurried downstairs to handle the two tasks Damien had assigned.

After all, these were personally assigned by Damien. If he botched them, he wouldn't have enough heads to lose.

Two days passed in a flash, and soon it was the day of the International Design Competition finals.

Beatrice clutched the sealed design draft and USB drive tightly, feeling somewhat nervous.

John looked at her tense profile, his eyes full of concern. "Bea, don't be nervous. Your design skills are so solid, and you've prepared so thoroughly—you'll definitely be fine."

Beatrice looked up at John and shook her head. "I'm fine. I'm not nervous."