She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 54

“To take you home,” Lucian said, eyes lowered, the faintest curve of a smile at his mouth—distant and bright, like winter starlight. “And to watch a dangerous race.”

Loyce had seen plenty of handsome men, but the way Lucian blended calm warmth with a soldier’s edge was rare—almost unfair. He had a dangerous kind of pull.

She steadied herself quickly and smiled back. “I can drive myself.”

Lucian didn’t argue. He simply said, “It’s not safe at night. I’m taking you.”

Loyce lifted a brow. “Then lower your head.”

From far away, Lester spotted her standing with a man who looked unmistakably high-status. The man bent slightly while Loyce reached up and brushed streamers out of his hair.

“All set,” Loyce said, flicking the ribbon away. “Let’s go.”

Lucian caught the clean, soft scent of her as she leaned close. When he straightened, the fingers at his side twitched subtly, and his smile deepened.

Behind them, Robert followed in a daze. He looked like his worldview had been rearranged. To him, there were only two reasons their admiral ever bowed his head: hostages on a battlefield… and Loyce.

By the time Lester tried to push through the crowd for a closer look, the pair had already disappeared.

When Loyce boarded the helicopter, several officials hurried over to see them off—faces full of admiration, posture unusually respectful.

“If we’d known you were coming tonight, we would’ve prepared properly,” one of them said.

“You did well,” Lucian replied, calm and approving.

Even after the cabin door shut, the officials below held rigid, formal posture until the helicopter lifted.

Only then did Loyce connect the dots. She turned her head toward Lucian. “Quiana got reported by a ‘spectator.’ That spectator was you.”

Lucian leaned back, tapping the armrest with one finger. “As a racing fan, reporting a wrong call is the fair thing to do, isn’t it?”

A normal audience report wouldn’t have pushed officials into a ruling that severe, especially in a sponsor-backed sport where everyone had connections and nobody wanted to make enemies. But Quiana had run into Lucian, someone even the President treated carefully.

“Thank you,” Loyce said. “Your consultation fee, consider it discounted. Deeply.”

Lucian’s eyes tilted with amusement, the cold sharpness briefly warmed, turning his distance into something almost dangerously charming. “Then… thank you, my doctor.”

...

That night, Loyce returned to the military housing compound.

The next day, while she was seeing patients for free at the clinic inside the compound, Tucker arrived carrying years of medical reports.

“Loyce,” Tucker said, practically glowing with hope. “Can you see if you can fix my leg?”

Loyce reviewed the paperwork, then had him roll up his pant leg. She pressed lightly near his knee. Tucker sucked in a breath, pain flashing across his face.

Loyce withdrew her hand, voice calm and certain. “The main issue is sciatic nerve compression with localized muscle atrophy. Conservative treatment won’t do much anymore, but a minimally invasive procedure combined with rehab can improve it. It won’t be easy, though.”

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