Chapter 394 Marked by Several Groups of People
<Chapter>Chapter 394 Marked by Several Groups of People</Chapter>
Steven found himself confounded by her thought process. "You wish to wait until after the competition?" he queried.
"Yes," she affirmed, tears streaming down her face. "I'd rather endure the pain or even faint afterward than face humiliation on stage." As she spoke, Abigail found herself instinctively seeking comfort, pressing her tear-streaked face against the fabric of his clothing.
Subsequently, she hiccuped, a soft murmur escaping her lips, "Your shirt... it smells really nice..."
In the next moment, she froze, a sudden realization hitting her. 'Was I just embracing Steven and using his shirt to wipe my tears?' she wondered in horror.
At that moment, Abella sauntered into the room, her lips curling into a slight smirk as she took in the scene before her.
"Oh, it's not... it's not what it looks like..." Abigail stammered, hastily pulling away from Steven. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Medici. I didn't mean to... I'll take your shirt and wash it for you..."
"No need," he responded curtly.
Abigail, however, was already tugging at his shirt, a sense of mortification washing over her. She attempted to wipe the tear stains off his shirt, mumbling, "I didn't mean to..."
Her voice trailed off, her words barely audible as she added, "I didn't mean to hug you earlier either..."
Abella, leaning casually against the door frame, decided to break the awkward silence. "Still want your trophy?" she asked.
Trophy?
The word sparked a surge of excitement within Abigail, and she felt an overwhelming urge to rush over and claim it.
"Careful," Steven warned, swiftly catching her hand as he noticed the bandage wrapped around it. A sudden move like that could potentially aggravate her wound.
Abigail's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the realization.
Feeling the heat rise to his own cheeks, Steven quickly released her hand, suddenly aware of the impropriety of his actions.
Abella, finding amusement in the situation, sauntered over, effectively diffusing the tension.
"What's this?" she asked, holding up a trophy.
"Third place?" Abigail's eyes sparkled with joy. "Abella, did you do this out of friendship? Despite my performance, I still managed to secure third place?"
"You only altered the hem of your dress in the third round, but the overall impact was impressive. Plus, your scores from the first two rounds were commendable," Abella explained.
So, third place was a reasonable outcome.
"Really? There were no friendship points involved? Really?" Abigail exclaimed, throwing her arms around Abella in a tight embrace.
Abella glanced at the bandaged hand, relieved to see it undisturbed. "Yes, the other judges scored as well, and the scores are genuine."
Caught in Abigail's enthusiastic embrace, Abella could only manage to say, "Ease up, you're going to strangle me."
"Ahhh, Abella, I love you..." Abigail tightened her grip, her voice purring with affection. She may not have won first place, but third place was more than enough for her.
"It's just... I didn't get to accept the trophy from you on stage."
"Now you can take it," Abella said, handing her the trophy with a solemn expression. "Contestant number 1, Abigail, congratulations on winning third place."
Abigail giggled, bowing respectfully as she accepted the trophy with delight. "Thank you, thank you, QY, for presenting this award to me."
"Here, autographs," Abella said, handing her a stack of photographs. They were shots from the event, each one capturing Abigail's performance along with Abella's critiques. Each photo bore QY's personal signature.
"Ah! Who took these? They're amazing..." Abigail exclaimed.
"How about a photo together?" Abella suggested, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Yes, please!!" Abigail agreed enthusiastically, trophy in one hand and photos in the other. She looped her arm through Abella's, eager not just for a single picture, but a whole series of them!
Abella extracted her phone, and the two girls posed for the camera. Abigail, noticing an unwelcome figure in the background, politely addressed him, "Umm... Excuse me, Mr. Medici, could you please step aside just a bit...?"
Taken aback by his unexpected interruption, Steven retreated a few steps, observing the girls as they huddled together for their snapshot.
Abigail's face lit up for the camera, her smile radiant, while Abella also allowed a smile to grace her features.
Steven pondered the capricious nature of women – one moment submerged in tears, the next, all smiles and ready to say 'cheese.'
After capturing a few images, Abella's phone began to vibrate. She glanced at the caller ID and murmured, "I need to take this call."
"Sure, sure," Abigail responded, her gaze falling on the trophy in her hands, her joy barely concealed.
Once the call connected, a man's voice urgently spoke from the other end. "Boss, were you at the event today, saving someone's life?"
Stepping out onto the hospital room's private balcony, Abella responded with indifference, "No."
"So, did you diagnose someone? Mentioning HN2C on a global broadcast, when it's knowledge not common to the layperson, has got you in the sights of some serious people. You better head back home fast. I'm worried..."
"Worried I might not make it out of the country?"
"Boss, the situation is severe. Even the people from the Skull Society are after you!"
The Skull Society was a formidable and enigmatic organization. Some claimed it had been manipulating the politics of a powerful nation for a century, while others speculated they were behind numerous sensational international incidents.
In truth, their influence and terror far surpassed that of the A Gang, led by Abella.
"And the folks from Hellground Base are watching you too," the concerned voice continued on the line. "Plus, the T3 Research Institute is on your trail..."
The T3 Institute was a notorious medical entity, infamous for creating virulent viruses and conducting direct experiments on the elderly and children. Anyone marked by this institute had two options: serve or be eliminated. Over the years, none that drew their attention had ever escaped.
"I'll be careful," Abella assured, before noticing a group of hurried individuals down below that looked like trouble.
"Boss, let me bring some guys to escort you back. I can't promise complete protection, but at the least, we can take a bullet for you..."
The seriousness of the day's attention, sticky like gum with no easy escape, wasn't lost on either of them.
"No need, I've got business to handle. I'm hanging up."
"But boss...!"
Before he could finish, Abella ended the call. She walked back into the room, where Abigail greeted her with exuberance, "Abella, done with your call? Let's take a few more pictures..."
"I have some things to take care of right now; we'll take more shots later. Steven, I need you to take Abi back home now. Immediately."
"Now?" Steven was perplexed. Abigail still had two IV bags to go... What was with the sudden rush to leave? Had something come up?
"Yeah, private jet's the fastest. I've got some things to take care of first."
"Wait, weren't we going to swing by the family business later?" Steven asked in a low voice.
"Next time," Abella said, without hesitation, left the hospital room.
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