Chapter 450
Lucas gently patted Oliver on the shoulder.
"You, of all people, should understand this."
The car accident in Oliver's past, which nearly cost him his life, mirrored this situation precisely. Everyone was aware that Victoria and her mother were behind it, yet in the absence of evidence, the issue concerning these two remained unresolved.
Oliver glanced at Lucas, recalling their initial meeting. Back then, Lucas was slender and delicate, having arrived at Rosewood Estate on a stormy evening, distressed like a young wolf cub, capable only of howling.
Lucas had since become stronger, both physically and in his sphere of influence. His confidence and decisiveness had grown. Indeed, he had become powerful enough to challenge Oliver himself.
"Here," Oliver said, handing over a bag.
"What is it?" Lucas asked, opening the bag with a hint of suspicion, only to discover a large bag of apples inside. Then, he exclaimed, "Oliver!"
Lucas thought if it was an attempt to mock him by giving him a few pounds of apples.
"If you don't want them, give them to Lilian," Oliver suggested.
"Why bring her into this?"
Lucas' imposing aura weakened immediately. He became serious and cautious.
Oliver chuckled softly but did not reply, choosing instead to walk away.
"Oliver!" Lucas called out but received no answer. He contemplated chasing after Oliver to inquire further but found himself merely clenching his teeth and watching as Oliver's figure vanished into the night.
'What could I even ask if I managed to catch up? Ask if he is aware that I like Lilian? And then what? Regardless of his answer, what could I say?' Lucas thought inwardly.
Despite priding himself on his intelligence, Lucas found himself at a loss, unable to pinpoint exactly what he was struggling with, or what he was attempting to avoid at that moment.
Oliver had arranged for someone to escort Lucas away.
Upon leaving the Rosewood Estate, they followed a wide road that led directly to the city center.
Once they arrived, Lucas concocted an excuse to be dropped off at the roadside.
Shortly thereafter, a Pagani pulled up before him, and he entered the vehicle on the passenger side, still holding the bag.
"Mr. Watson, what's this? Did you acquire some new parts?" the driver, a member of Well, asked.
Lucas produced an apple from his bag and asked, "Does this look like some parts to you?"
Then, raising the apple slightly, he continued with an impassive expression, "Would you like one?"
"No, thank you, Mr. Watson."
The driver took a moment to think, attempting to ease the tension. He asked, "Are you going to the base, Mr. Watson?"
"Why would I summon you if I'm not going to the base?” Lucas asked, looking at him as though he was looking at a fool.
"Mr. Watson, are you in a bad mood today?"
It was common knowledge within the organization that Lucas was calm and approachable, but when he was upset, he would lash out.
Lucas averted his gaze, his indifference reminiscent of a lazy cat.
"Do you believe there is any hope for me?" Lucas asked.
"Why would you ask such a question, Mr. Watson? You have successfully completed your chemotherapy," the driver replied.
'But is the treatment truly a success? Lucas doubted it.
There were numerous instances of leukemia returning after initially successful chemotherapy treatments. No one could guarantee he would not suffer a relapse.
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