She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 338

“I just think he might actually eat if you were the one bringing it,” the butler said, steeling himself. He stared at the floor, held the medicine back out to her, and pleaded, "Could you please take the medicine to him yourself, and maybe bring him something to eat?"

"Please," he added, bowing deeply, as if to prove his sincerity.

Faced with such a display, Loyce found it hard to refuse. She sighed softly. "Fine, I'll go."

The butler's face lit up. "The kitchen just finished making some light porridge. It's being kept warm. I'll take you there."

Once in the kitchen, the butler immediately instructed the chef, "Quick, plate the warm porridge so Loyce can take it to Mr. Shapiro."

The chef stared blankly. "Huh?"

"What do you mean, 'huh'? Did your brain shut down at a critical moment?"

The butler was so anxious that he went to open the clay pot himself. When he saw only a little porridge left at the bottom and the side dishes also gone, his face darkened. "Where's the food?"

The chef finally explained, "Saphira just took it. She said she was bringing it to Mr. Lucian Shapiro."

"Saphira?" the butler frowned. "You're talking about Saphira?"

"Yes," the chef replied, looking innocent. "She's been helping out in the kitchen a lot lately. When she heard Mr. Shapiro was sick, she insisted on bringing him food. I told her he had no appetite and was in a bad mood, but she kept saying that you have to eat to keep your strength up and took the food to him."

"If someone is already attending to him, then I'll just deliver the medicine," Loyce said.

Anyone who could become the head butler of the Shapiro estate was sharp. It only took a moment for him to realize things had just gone terribly wrong.

As he watched Loyce head upstairs toward the master bedroom, he wanted to stop her, but the words caught in his throat. He knew he was in a no-win situation. Stopping her would be a tacit admission that something was amiss in the bedroom. But letting her go meant she would undoubtedly walk in on Cyrilla.

It wasn't the first time that girl had pulled such a shameless stunt, but she was shielded by the fact that her family had saved the master's life, and no one could say a word against her.

Inside the master bedroom, heavy curtains blocked out most of the light, leaving only a single, dim bedside lamp glowing.

Lucian was propped up against the headboard, his hair damp with sweat and his face flushed an unnatural red from the fever. His thin lips were pressed into a firm line. Wearing an eye mask, he heard the door open and assumed it was the butler again. "I said not to disturb me. Get out," he said coldly.

But instead of the butler's voice, footsteps drew nearer, accompanied by the soft clink of tableware. The aroma of food filled the air near the bed.

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