Chapter 482 I Am Late
James closed his eyes, resting his spirit on the high-speed train. He had only told Genevieve about her malignant tumor out of respect for Hestia. Instead of gratitude, she had hurled insults at him. Why bother engaging further?
Across the aisle, Hestia whispered urgently to Genevieve, whose furious glare could have melted steel. Three hours of tension made the journey feel endless.
When they finally arrived at the station, James stretched and walked out to breathe the fresh air of freedom. His moment of peace was short-lived.
"James!" Genevieve's voice cut through the station noise as she dragged Hestia to block his path. "I'm giving you one final chance. Apologize to me right now, and for Hestia's sake, I'll let today's incident slide."
Hestia's pleading eyes met his. "James, just apologize, okay?" She had spent hours trying to suppress Genevieve's anger. With Genevieve's connections, James was courting disaster.
"Apologize?" James raised an eyebrow.
Genevieve's pretty face twisted with indignation. "What? Not willing? This is an opportunity Hestia begged for. I wouldn't even give you the chance otherwise."
James shook his head slightly. "I'm afraid you're not worthy of my apology."
It was only his healer's compassion that made him mention the tumor at all. Otherwise, he wouldn't have minded apologizing and letting Genevieve ignore her condition until the inevitable end.
"I'm not worthy?" Genevieve's cold laugh echoed. "Do you dare say that again?"
"I could say it twice more—you're not worthy."
"Fine. Don't regret it later." She turned to Hestia. "You witnessed this. It's not that I'm disrespecting you, but he's simply too stubborn."
Genevieve stalked toward the escalator, phone already in hand. "He needs to be taught a lesson he won't forget."
After Genevieve walked away, Hestia's brow furrowed as she gave James a helpless smile. "You've really gone too far this time. Genevieve isn't an ordinary girl. Her family is extremely wealthy, and her boyfriend wields considerable power."
She sighed. "Honestly, with your background, you can't afford to antagonize someone like her. A simple apology would have spared you a lot of trouble."
"I don't think I'll have any trouble," James said with a faint smile. "But you should remind her to get checked at a hospital. Otherwise, she truly won't live past three months."
"James!" Hestia's tone sharpened. "Fighting is one thing, but don't curse people with talk of disease."
She had a good impression of James, but his persistent mentions of tumors seemed excessive. As for his supposed medical skills—she didn't believe it. He was too young and didn't look anything like a doctor.
"Fine, I won't mention it again." James headed toward the escalator. He had done what he could.
Hestia shook her head helplessly, thinking James was being ungrateful.
As James checked the Harvey family's address on his phone, it vibrated with an incoming call.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Williams?" came a respectful voice. "I'm Ron Harvey, steward of the Harvey family. Madam has sent me to pick you up. Which exit are you at?"
James was surprised they knew his arrival details, but then remembered The Walker's far-reaching capabilities. "Thanks. East side exit. Black top, light pants, black suitcase."
"I'll be there shortly," Ron replied with deference that contrasted sharply with Genevieve's arrogance.
Minutes later, as James waited, Genevieve approached with renewed confidence. "You really won't apologize?"
When James didn't respond, she laughed. "You've got attitude! Hope you can maintain it."
Several luxury cars roared up, disgorging well-dressed men and women.
"Asher!" Genevieve called, rushing to embrace a young man with a braid. She whispered in his ear, and his gaze toward James grew increasingly sharp.
After they departed, Hestia made one last attempt in the car, "Asher, please don't harm him. James saved my life once."
"Don't worry," Asher replied with a vicious edge. "Out of respect for you, I won't cripple him. But he made Genevieve angry and even cursed her. He needs to be taught a lesson."
"Exactly," Genevieve added, glancing in the rearview mirror at James's solitary figure. "Hestia, you tried your best. He wouldn't even apologize."
"What are you planning?" Hestia asked worriedly.
Asher smirked. "Just made some phone calls. Every taxi and ride-share at the station will refuse him. If he wants to leave, he'll have to walk."
Genevieve laughed delightedly at the thought of James stranded. Hestia remained silent, though her concern was evident.
"Forget him. Let's eat," Asher said, a cruel gleam in his eyes. He wasn't just making James walk—he had arranged for a beating. He wanted James to crawl out of the station.
Back at the east exit, an old truck stopped opposite James. Tattooed thugs emerged, cigarettes dangling from their mouths, steel pipes wrapped in newspapers.
James narrowed his eyes at them, sensing a hint of malice.
"Kid, you've offended someone you shouldn't have," a bald thug warned. "Cooperate, and I'll only break one leg. Resist, and I'll break both."
Just then, a Rolls-Royce pulled up silently beside James.
An elderly silver-haired man emerged and bowed deeply. "Mr. Williams, I apologize for being late."
The thugs froze in shock. "The Harvey family?" one whispered, their steel pipes nearly slipping from nerveless fingers.
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