She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 545

A vein pulsed violently at Hank's temple. He practically squeezed the words through his gritted teeth: "Giselle. Turner."

The perpetrator, however, looked as though she had just accomplished something monumental. Having emptied her stomach, she felt instantly better. She lifted her hazy eyes to him and absentmindedly wiped her mouth with her sleeve, completely oblivious to the catastrophe she had just caused.

Staring at Hank's murderous expression, Giselle didn't show a hint of remorse. "Thanks to you, I couldn't throw up in the bathroom at all, but now I feel great."

Loyce, who had come looking for her, rounded the corner just in time to witness the entire scene. She couldn't hold back a laugh.

Hank shot her a lethal glare, but realizing it was his sister, his expression instantly shifted to one of profound grievance. "Your employee just used me as a human garbage can, and you're laughing?"

"She's young. Be the bigger person, Hank," Loyce said, suppressing a smile. "I'll have someone take her back to the hotel."

"Forget it. I have to go back and change this nightmare anyway. I'll drop her off," Hank muttered, his brow furrowed in deep disgust as he peeled off the ruined jacket and draped it over his arm. With his free hand, he simply scooped Giselle up and carried her toward the exit.

Seeing this, Loyce felt the need to issue a warning. "Hank, she works for me. She's my friend."

Hank paused mid-step. "I know that."

Trusting that he knew where the boundaries were, Loyce turned and headed back into the restaurant.

In the corner of the dining room, a waiter had just flipped the television from an entertainment channel to a news network.

"What's there to worry about? It's not his first rodeo. Besides, this is just a standard search and rescue. He'll get it done and come home safe," Renee replied with absolute certainty. She even patted Loyce, who was staring intently at the TV. "Don't worry, Loyce. He'll be perfectly fine."

Loyce didn't respond. She was listening closely to the meteorologist's breakdown of the weather conditions, and her brow slowly furrowed.

Based on her knowledge of naval fleet configurations, a helicopter couldn't breach that airspace, but a rescue ship definitely could. Fourteen-meter swells were dangerous, but a military-grade vessel could handle them. If Lucian hadn't ordered his ships in yet, weather wasn't the real problem.

At that exact moment, in the command center of the naval flagship, Lucian's expression was freezing cold as he stared out into the chaotic, churning ocean ahead.

The situation was infinitely more complicated than he had anticipated.