CHAPTER 298: CHAPTER 298 LUCIAN

Serena’s POV

"No wonder you both look surprised," Lucian said with a slight smile, stepping fully into the room.."

I exchanged a quick glance with Maya. After the whole Kane debacle had concluded, Lucian had returned to his overseas headquarters, leaving the New York operations in other hands. His sudden appearance in London was nothing short of bewildering.

"I’ve heard about what happened to the Quinn family," he said, placing the elegant gift basket on the side table. "Ethan and I have done business together in the past. When I learned about his accident, I wanted to see him personally."

I let out a soft sigh. "I had no idea you and my brother were acquainted, Mr. West."

Lucian’s lips curved into an easy smile, his tone becoming lighter. "My relationship with Ethan isn’t nearly as extensive as the one between us, Mrs. Blackwood."

His eyes held mine for a moment before he chuckled. "That was just a joke. Actually, I’ve brought someone along who might be of genuine help to you."

He gave two sharp claps, and a distinguished middle-aged man appeared in the doorway, his posture radiating quiet confidence.

"This is Dr. Thompson, a renowned orthopedic surgeon. I believe he could be instrumental in Ethan’s recovery."

I felt a spark of hope ignite within me, my eyes brightening as I extended my hand to the doctor. "Dr. Thompson, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Would it be possible for you to—"

"Examine Mr. Quinn?" he finished with a reassuring nod. "Of course. That’s precisely why I’m here, at Mr. West’s invitation."

For the next hour, Dr. Thompson conducted a thorough examination of Ethan’s condition, occasionally murmuring to himself as he studied the charts and X-rays. Maya and I watched silently, exchanging hopeful glances as the doctor’s expression remained focused rather than concerned.

When he finally stepped back, he outlined several treatment options that neither the hospital’s staff nor our specialists had mentioned. Though much of his explanation consisted of complex medical terminology that went over our heads, one thing was abundantly clear—Dr. Thompson possessed expertise that could potentially change Ethan’s prognosis.

After the doctor stepped out to consult with the hospital’s medical team, I pulled Lucian aside near the window, where afternoon sunlight streamed through the blinds.

"Mr. West," I said softly, genuine gratitude warming my voice, "I don’t know how to thank you properly for this. If my brother can recover because of your intervention..." I paused, emotion threatening to overwhelm me. "The Quinn family won’t forget your kindness."

"Please, Serena, there’s no need for such formality between us. I’d like to think we’re friends," he replied, his eyes sincere.

The statement hung between us, loaded with unspoken history. Lucian had once misjudged Ryan and, by extension, had caused me significant pain through his actions. This gesture felt like an olive branch, a chance to rebuild bridges that had been burned.

"Of course we’re friends," I affirmed with a gentle smile, feeling the tension in the room dissipate.

Over the next several days, Ethan’s condition showed marked improvement under Dr. Thompson’s care. The perpetual furrow of pain between his brows began to ease, and moments of lucidity became more frequent, stretching into hours of alertness.

One afternoon, I arrived to find Maya reading aloud from a business magazine, her voice animated as she described the latest market trends. Ethan was awake, his head turned toward her, a small smile playing at his lips despite the pain I knew he must still be feeling.

"And then the CEO had the audacity to claim they’d planned the merger all along," Maya was saying with theatrical indignation, "as if everyone hadn’t watched them scramble for six months!"

"Sounds like... someone’s been paying attention... to my boring market talks," Ethan rasped, his voice weak but his eyes bright with affection.

Maya’s hand flew to her mouth, the magazine forgotten. "You’re calling your passionate economic dissertations ’boring’ now? Who are you and what have you done with Ethan Quinn?"

They shared a look so intimate that I almost felt like an intruder. Maya reached out and tenderly brushed a strand of hair from Ethan’s forehead, her fingertips lingering against his skin.

"I thought I’d lost you," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Ethan’s hand trembled as he reached for hers. "Never. You’re... stuck with me,Maya."

I quietly stepped back toward the door, giving them their moment. The raw emotion between them touched something deep within me—a reminder of what love should be: steadfast, unflinching in the face of adversity. Maya hadn’t left Ethan’s side since the accident, her devotion unwavering even when the prognosis had been at its bleakest.

That evening, as Ryan and I settled into the quietness of our London townhouse, I recounted the day’s events, ending with what I’d witnessed between Maya and Ethan.

"We need to find a way to properly thank Lucian," I said, curling my legs beneath me on the sofa. "Dr. Thompson believes Ethan may walk again with intensive therapy. Six weeks ago, that possibility wasn’t even on the table."

Ryan’s expression softened as he handed me a glass of wine. "I’ve already arranged for Thompson’s services to be fully compensated, but you’re right about West. Despite our... complicated history, I’m grateful for what he’s done."

"It’s more than just bringing in Thompson," I mused, taking a sip of the rich burgundy liquid. "He didn’t have to get involved at all. Especially after everything that happened with Kane."

Ryan sat beside me, his arm sliding around my shoulders in a gesture that had become comfortingly familiar. "People surprise you sometimes. Maybe West is trying to make amends."

I leaned into his warmth, remembering the genuine concern in Lucian’s eyes when he’d visited Ethan. "You know what affected me most today? Watching Maya with Ethan. She loves him so completely, Ryan. Through everything—the pain, the uncertainty—she’s been his constant."

Ryan’s fingers traced gentle patterns on my shoulder. "That kind of devotion is rare," he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. "When you find it, you should hold onto it with everything you have."

I turned to look at him, struck by the intensity in his gaze.

"Yes," I whispered. "You absolutely should."