All the netizens broke out in a heated debate.
Meanwhile, Lucas and Ashlyn flew back to Maredania.
It didnât matter how lively it was at Lake City with all the rowdy voices or how Lake City Daily praised Lucas to the skies on TikTok and Twitter for piloting a plane and saving lives.
Right that moment, they were sitting at a small round table under the vines, drinking coffee with Ian.
Ian quirked an eyebrow. âSo, it seems that Imperial Hotel is your property, Ashlyn? I never knew that you were so capable.â
The wound on Ashlynâs forehead had healed considerably, and new flesh had grown. She calmly took a sip of the coffee in her hand. âItâs just a hotel.â
âHow modest of you, Ashlyn.â Ian chuckled, turning his gaze to Lucas. âYouâre impressive, too. You can even pilot a plane, and quite well at that.â
âIt turns out that youâre actually too free today and are especially teasing us? Iâve still got something else to do, so please excuse me.â Ashlyn put the coffee in her hand down.
Ian stared at her back. âCome in. Iâll continue treating you, but youâre not to simply leave again next time.â
Lucas said nothing. He merely placed his coffee down and followed the man into the house.
At the gates of the Jaquin residence in Lake City, a young man with injuries littering his body knelt under the scorching sun.
A layer of sweat blanketed his face, but his eyes radiated an innate sense of obstinacy.
On the day when a fire broke out at Imperial Hotel, Tinsor was stuffed into a burlap sack and left at the gates of the mansion in the middle of the night.
He had been kneeling there for a whole day and night.
He had been kneeling there for a whole day and night.
Winsor stood by the window on the second floor of the mansion.
His butler walked over and looked out the window at the young man kneeling at the gates with worry written all over his face. He anxiously cautioned, âMr. Winsor, if Mr. Tinsor were to continue kneeling, his legs would end up impaired!â
âSo be it! He shall kneel until he learns his lesson!â
Winsor then snubbed out the cigarette in his hand in disappointment, fury showing on his chiseled face.
He barked, âHeâs a descendant of the Jaquin family, yet he actually got himself kidnapped, stuffed into a burlap sack, and left at the gates of the mansion! How humiliating! Not only was he beaten to a pulp, but he also caused Ashlyn to suffer an injury and Imperial Hotel to be destroyed! If it werenât for him having been captured thanks to his paltry martial art skills and used as a bargaining chip to threaten Lucas, the many terrifying things subsequently wouldnât have happened. This time, Ashlyn and Lucas were lucky to escape. What if thereâs a next time?â
The butler sighed. âMr. Winsor, Mr. Tinsor is still young, after all. As such, Itâs inevitable that he got duped. Besides, he has been interning with Haddock Group alongside the youngest son of the Nolan family. Is Dixon Haddock that easy to get along with? I canât shake off the feeling that this matter has something to do with Haddock Group.â
âYouâre right.â Winsorâs expression was icy. He lifted his eyes and cast a look at Tinsor, who was still kneeling at the gates with his back ramrod straight. Subsequently, he ordered, âSend a few men out to investigate this matter. Also, send someone to inform Ashlyn about Haddock Groupâs financial issue Tinsor mentioned.â
âI think Mr. Blair would have already told her about it. Should we still do the same?â
The butler looked at the man hesitantly.
âThatâs their matter. Itâs different coming from us.â Winsorâs chiseled face was devoid of emotion, but his heart twisted in pain time and again.
At the thought that Ashlyn and Lucas were married, especially, he couldnât help feeling devastated.
Worse still, Ashlyn was injured because of Tinsor and Blair. That aside, Imperial Hotel was ruined.
Iâm such a failure!
He suddenly felt utterly ashamed and couldnât bring himself to face Ashlyn.
Meanwhile, in a dilapidated castle in Maredania, Luigi stood in front of Ashlyn while Jared sat beside the latter, scrolling through his phone.
The atmosphere in the main hall was a touch tense.
Ashlyn sat on the couch with her long and slender legs crossed. She wore a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. The front hem of her shirt was tucked into the waistband, rendering her waist all the slender.
âDixon is luring me into a trap. This news is undoubtedly fake. Furthermore, I was tricked to the abandoned factory in succession, and someone from ZZ Organization intervened in the end,â she sneered.