She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 87

The commotion at the gate reached the inside almost immediately.

Robert stepped out—straight-backed, severe, the kind of man who looked like rules were stitched into his bones.

The doctors and specialists gathered for the conference instantly wore flattering smiles. They might not have met the Shapiro heir in person, but everyone knew Robert.

Robert, however, didn’t waste a single extra look on them. He stayed cold and distant, until his gaze landed on Loyce. Then, as if someone flipped a switch, his posture softened and his expression turned almost friendly. “Good morning. Have you had breakfast?”

Loyce casually stuffed her cap into his hand. “Already ate. I ran here.”

Robert took her sun cap with a grin. “Perfect! My morning workout brought me this way too. I’ll walk you to the main hall.”

Loyce nodded. “Let’s go.”

The warmth in Robert’s tone left the crowd staring. The Shapiro family had a reputation—military bloodline, icy temperaments, even their security detail looked like they’d been pulled straight from elite units. And Robert, Lucian’s right-hand man? People had never seen him act pleasant, let alone attentive. Yet here he was, practically escorting a young woman like she belonged here.

It was another slap to Purity’s side of the room: the girl they’d just tried to throw out had, in the blink of an eye, become an honored guest.

“What is wrong with the Shapiros?” Purity hissed through her teeth. “Being polite to a girl with that kind of record? Are they insane?”

Sapphire quickly cut in under her breath. “Grandma, we’re still on Shapiro property.”

Purity forced herself to swallow it.

But Fernand didn’t. His temper flared; he pointed at Loyce’s back and shouted, “Are you guards deaf? I told you she’s a fraud! Her teacher killed a patient!”

A guard stepped in front of him, face blank. “Sir, put your hand down.”

Fernand had already been embarrassed by Loyce and lost his research project. His hatred had fermented into something ugly. He surged forward, spitting rage. “You low-class, can’t even listen to—”

He didn’t finish. The guard’s eyes sharpened. In one swift motion, he twisted. There was a sickening crack as Fernand’s finger was wrenched hard, and Fernand was shoved back with brutal efficiency.

“This is Shapiro property,” the guard said, voice deep and absolute. “No one makes a scene here. Right and wrong will be judged by the Shapiro family.”

In that moment, the “door guard” radiated the kind of military pressure that made people instinctively shut their mouths.

Fernand was dragged out. Panicking, he reached for Purity like a drowning man. “Aunt! Aunt, help me!”

Purity snapped her sleeve away as if he’d contaminated her.

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