Steven was really in trouble, on the brink of death. This was completely different from my past life. He never had a car accident then, never faced such a dangerous situation.
My mind felt like it had been struck by lightning, completely blank.
How could this have happened?
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, Horace finished recording for the show and handed a bank card to another man.
“One hundred thousand.”
“Thank you, Mr. Spencer!” the man said gleefully, taking the card. It was the contestant who had caused the scene on stage. “Mr. Spencer, were you satisfied with my performance? Your girl rushed right up on stage to defend you. Congratulations on winning her over.”
Horace glanced at him, a faint smile on his lips.
“You can go now.”
His expression seemed gentle, but his tone was bone-chilling. The man's smile instantly faded, and after a quick nod, he turned and fled.
Horace sat in his wheelchair, his eyes as deep and dark as a galaxy, inscrutable, with a fleeting glint of cold light.
He hurried toward the VIP lounge, but when he saw the news report on the screen and the shattered glass on the floor, he immediately understood. His voice was calm.
“Zephyra, are you going to see him?”
I whipped my head around, my face pale, and looked at the elegant Horace before me. “Horace, are... are you done?”
He nodded, his gaze flicking to the scrolling news ticker. “I saw the news. Steven was in an accident, and it looks serious. Since it’s here in Baxo, you should go see him if you want. I won’t stop you. I just have one condition.”
He wheeled himself closer, his long, warm fingers closing around my hand. “I’m coming with you.”
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