Mia flinched, a flicker of emotion breaking through her calm, but she didn't say anything.
"You must find it strange," Mrs. Reed said quietly, "that they keep going after Emmett, and I seem to do nothing."
"I wouldn't dare judge," Mia replied, respectful as ever. "You must have your own plans."
Mrs. Reed let out a bitter smile.
"Plans?" she echoed. "What plans? The only 'plan' is that once Lucian collapsed, everyone in the Reed family started thinking for themselves. Emmett is the next heir. To those with bad intentions, his very existence is an eyesore."
If the day ever came when Lucian really died, the next to follow him to the grave would be his son and his grandfather.
The Reed estate, all flowers and marble and chandeliers, had never been a safe, idle nest for the rich.
"Mia."
Mrs. Reed suddenly grabbed her hand, fingers tight with desperation. Her eyes burned with pleading.
"You have to bring Lucian back," she whispered. "You must make him better. Do you understand?"
…
Mia returned to the bedroom with a heavy heart.
Lucian still lay motionless on the bed, machines humming softly around him, light blinking on cold metal.
She sat on the edge of the mattress and watched his unconscious face for a long time. Finally, she pulled out her acupuncture kit again.
Silver needles sang as she drove them into his points. In the faint, metallic humming, Mia's brows stayed cool and steady, but her eyes were dark with silence.
When the treatment ended, blood seeped from his body again—from his ears, his nose, the corners of his eyes, even beading out of his pores. He looked as if he'd just been dragged out of a pool of blood.
Mia wrung out a hot towel and began wiping him down, methodically clearing away every trace of red from his skin.
Her hand passed over his chest, fingers pressing into hard muscle.
"This skin, this body, this face…" she murmured under her breath. "Honestly, you're ridiculous. Getting to enjoy this view every day might make all this work worth it."
If she was going to exhaust herself saving his life, she was entitled to peek at a few benefits.
She continued unconcernedly "eating tofu," tracing the curve of his pectorals, smoothing her hand over his abdomen. She was so focused on his body that she didn't notice the faint movement of his eyes beneath his lids.
This time, the blood had seeped out everywhere. Even his legs were streaked.
Mia reached for the waistband of his pants, fingers hooking under the edge, ready to pull them down so she could clean properly.
A dry, powerful hand clamped suddenly around her wrist.
A weak but still commanding voice rasped close to her ear.
"St… stop… that."
"Don't be difficult," Mia said automatically. "The bottom needs wiping too. If I leave it like this, it'll smell."
She froze halfway through the sentence.
Slowly, she turned her head.
The man on the bed was staring straight at her, eyes open. In those deep, hawk-like pupils, cold indifference, cruelty, and a thin edge of anger and killing intent flashed like lightning.
At that exact moment, the door swung open.
Mindy stepped in with a tray of food—and froze.
The tray hit the floor with a crash, dishes shattering.
"The young master is awake!" she shrieked, and bolted back into the hall.
Within seconds, the corridor filled with the thunder of footsteps. Old Mr. Reed, Mrs. Reed, the doctor, a crowd of side-branch relatives, plus maids and bodyguards all poured into the room until it felt like a marketplace.
"Get out," Lucian growled, voice rough but full of authority. "All of you. Out."
The old man slammed his cane against the floor.
No one dared argue. People began streaming toward the door in a flurry.
Mia turned to leave with them, but a hand caught her wrist again.
Mrs. Reed grabbed her, eyes shining with excitement.
"Mia, you're not allowed to go!" she said. "Lucian woke up because of you. You deserve the greatest credit!"
Old Mr. Reed looked over as well. For once, the stern lines of his face softened.
"Mia," he said, "you are the Reed family's benefactor."
Originally, marrying her to his comatose grandson as a "lucky bride" had been nothing more than a desperate gamble.
He'd never expected it to actually work.
Old Mr. Reed pressed something cool and heavy into her palm—a jade bracelet so translucent it seemed to glow.
"Grandpa, this is too valuable," Mia protested.
"This is the symbol of the Reed family's eldest grandson's wife," he said firmly. "It belongs to you."
Mrs. Reed smiled for the first time in days.
"When an elder gives you a gift, you mustn't refuse," she reminded. "Thank your grandfather."
Mia could only accept.
"Thank you, Grandpa," she said quietly.
Dr. Shea stepped forward then, stethoscope still hanging around his neck.
"After this period of treatment, the young master's overall condition has improved a lot," he reported. "But the nerve damage in his legs is very serious. Surgery would be extremely risky. I recommend conservative treatment."
Mrs. Reed stared at him in disbelief.
"Dr. Shea, you mean you're not confident you can operate?" she asked, voice shaking.
He sighed.
"I'm sorry," he said. "This is beyond my ability."
Old Mr. Reed's face darkened.
"And the rest of his condition?" the old man asked in a low voice.
Dr. Shea hesitated, choosing his words carefully.
"With the young master still alive and with a little prince like Emmett," he said, "the Reed family will surely prosper in the future."
The implication was clear.
Lucian would likely spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair—and he would never father another child.
Mrs. Reed swayed, then collapsed in a dead faint.
"Madam!" someone cried.
The room erupted into chaos again.
Old Mr. Reed looked as if the ground had opened beneath his feet.
"There's truly no other way?" he asked hoarsely.
"Not entirely," Dr. Shea said. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "If you can find Dr. Quentin Hale, the young master would have a very good chance. But…"
Seven years ago, Quentin Hale had vanished from the public eye. Countless people had searched for him since.
No one had even managed to find a shadow.
Mia glanced at Dr. Shea, her eyes narrowing slightly.
Lucian, unable to function as a man?
But when she had been wiping him down earlier, she had very clearly felt—
After Dr. Shea left, Old Mr. Reed shooed everyone else out as well.
Within hours, the news that Lucian Reed had woken up from his coma tore through Harbor City like a storm.
Back in the bedroom, the atmosphere shifted.
"Who is she?" Lucian asked coldly.
Propped up against the headboard, he radiated power even in a hospital gown. Those eagle-like eyes glittered with a cutting chill that made people's hearts stutter.
His voice was a little hoarse, but it carried undeniable weight.
Old Mr. Reed personally took Mia's hand and smiled.
"This is Mia," he said. "Two days ago, Grandpa made the decision to marry her to you."
Lucian's expression went black in an instant, storm clouds gathering behind his eyes.
"Divorce her," he said flatly. "Get her out of this house. Now."
Mia's heart gave a hard thump.
Right then, Lucian looked like a beast that had chewed through its cage, every glance filled with lethal danger. The hairs on her arms stood on end.
She was just about to seize the opportunity and agree to leave when a small figure shot across the room like a cannonball.
Emmett.
The little boy planted himself in front of Mia, his pale baby face set in a stubborn scowl like a tiny soldier.
"Mommy," he said fiercely. "Don't go!"
Warmth flooded Mia's chest.
Ever since her own mother died, no one had ever stood in front of her like this.
She couldn't help herself—her hand rose and ruffled his soft hair.
Feeling that gentle touch, Emmett's cheeks flushed pink. He looked back at her, big eyes filled with attachment and quiet adoration.
Old Mr. Reed and Lucian both stared, equally stunned.
Lucian's brows drew together in a hard knot.
"What is going on?" he demanded.
No one knew better than he did how guarded his son was around strangers—especially women. Yet now this little boy clung to an unknown woman like she was his whole world.
Old Mr. Reed sighed and recounted what had happened at noon: the lake, the rescue, the marks on the back of Emmett's neck.
"Mia married in and you woke up," the old man concluded. "Then she saved Emmett. She is your benefactor, and the benefactor of the entire Reed family. I will never allow you to drive her out. Tonight, the two of you will sleep together."
Emmett panicked the moment he heard that.
He jabbed a finger at his own nose and bounced anxiously on his toes.
"Me! Me! Me!" he shouted.
Old Mr. Reed chuckled and patted his head.
"All right, our Emmett stays too," he said. "A family should sleep together."
Leaning on the butler's arm, he walked toward the door.
Click.
The door shut behind him—and the lock slid into place.