Nightfall Palace, underground parking garage.
Lucas Knight stood there, his tall and muscular figure exuding a powerful sense of oppression.
He seemed oblivious to the pain in his hand.
Beside him, Dr. Meng was holding a large medical box, kneeling on the ground: "Mr. President, how did you injure your hand? Let me take care of it."
Dr. Meng was truly anxious.
Over the years, this man was either wounded by knives or guns. Now, it's glass—the glass pierced his hand and was bleeding, just looking at it is painful.
"Mr. President, how could you be so careless." Dr. Meng sighed...
After a series of treatments.
He spent quite a while disinfecting and bandaging the man's hand.
"Mr. President, you must be careful in the future."
"Hmm?" Lucas Knight frowned, slightly curled his lips. That silly Eva always called him like that, always addressing him as Mr. President, but he only focused on one word: Mr.
He was her man, of course, he was the leader.
