She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 132

Chapter 132

She paused, then added, “I used some of the data from your blood samples.”

Lucian’s eyes darkened instantly. He walked slowly until he was standing behind her, his tall frame completely enveloping hers. “So, my medical records are about to become the material for your award–winning

thesis?”

Loyce’s hands stilled. She turned to meet his dangerous gaze and nodded with perfect confidence. “That’s right. Waste not, want not. Don’t worry, all your personal information was anonymized.”

The lab fell silent, save for the low hum of the equipment.

Lucian suddenly reached out, and his long index finger mimicked her earlier gesture, tilting her chin up. “My dear miracle worker, if you’re going to make a profit off my illness, shouldn’t you pay some royalties?”

Loyce swatted his hand away. “I’m the one who saved your life.”

“You’re right,” Lucian said, a sudden smile spreading across his face that made Loyce’s heart skip a beat. “So my life already belongs to you. What’s a little blood data?”

He took a step back, elegantly adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket. “What time is the award ceremony? I’ll take you.”

“You don’t have to-” Loyce started to refuse, but Lucian had already picked up her coat and was waiting by the door, his posture leaving no room for argument.

“Hurry up,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Any longer and you’ll miss your moment in the spotlight.”

Loyce followed Lucian out of the lab. She checked her phone; the ceremony started in half an hour.

15:43

Chapter 132

His car, a discreetly luxurious black Bentley, was parked just outside the building, its sleek lines gleaming in the sun.

He held the door open for her. As soon as she slid inside, she was greeted by the faint medicinal scent that was so uniquely him.

“Nervous?” Lucian asked, starting the car and glancing over at her.

Loyce chuckled. “It’s just a short paper. Nothing to be nervous about.”

The medical school’s conference hall was already packed. A giant LED screen on the stage scrolled through the titles of the nominated papers for this year’s competition. Loyce’s paper, “Emerging Discoveries and Clinical Applications of Neuroregeneration Factors,” was listed among

them.

The moment she entered, she felt dozens of eyes turn towards her–some curious, some scrutinizing, and some… openly hostile.

“Well, well, isn’t it the young lady from the Sampson family,” someone whispered.

“I think you mean the Lonsdale family now,” another person corrected in a low voice. “Don’t you people read the tabloids?”

“Loyce, I didn’t expect you to come.”

Loyce turned at the sound of the voice and saw Quiana standing with a few of their former seniors from Fernand’s research group, along with a respected professor from the medical school. Quiana looked as frail and delicate as ever, a master of playing the victim to win the sympathy of

men.

“Mr. Nash,” Loyce said, ignoring Quiana completely. Her eyes scanned past her to the man at her side–Mario Nash, the vice dean of the

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