Mrs. Reed's mind went blank with a sharp buzzing roar. Then she lunged forward, grabbing the man on the bed and crying out his name, her voice torn with grief and terror.
"Lucian! Wake up! Lucian, baby, wake up!"
Out in the hallway, Old Mr. Reed stood waiting with a whole crowd of relatives. The moment he heard the commotion, he shoved the door open and strode in.
Lucian lay on the bed, his face the color of paper, breath so faint it was barely there.
Old Mr. Reed's hand trembled around the top of his cane. "What on earth happened?"
"I came in to check on him—I just had a bad feeling," Mrs. Reed sobbed. "And I saw this woman sticking needles into him. Then he started coughing up blood!"
Her voice broke as she clutched at her son.
"My poor Lucian… He's already so sick, and he still has to suffer like this. They're ripping my heart out!"
Old Mr. Reed lifted his gaze to Mia.
In his cloudy old eyes, there was nothing gentle left—only cold, killing intent.
"Mia Stone," he said. "Explain yourself."
"I wasn't hurting Mr. Reed," Mia replied, her tone calm. "There's been a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding?" Mrs. Reed exploded. "I saw it with my own eyes! How is that a misunderstanding?"
She turned to the old man, tears streaking her cheeks.
"Dad, the Stone family sent us a venomous woman to murder Lucian. You have to make them pay. Butler Reed, grab her. Tie her up if you have to!"
The butler moved as if to obey.
Old Mr. Reed didn't stop him. His gaze stayed fixed on Mia, colder than ever.
Just then, the doctor suddenly exclaimed in delight, his earlier solemnity gone.
"This is good! That blood—this is very good! The young master is alive!"
Old Mr. Reed forgot about everything else and hurried over.
"Doctor, what are you saying?" he demanded. "Lucian is going to be all right? He's really going to be all right?"
The doctor shook his head.
"I can only say his condition has stabilized for the moment," he replied. "He has survived this immediate crisis."
"Good, good, good."
Emotion shook the old man's voice. Since the day Lucian had collapsed, this was the best news he'd heard.
The doctor turned toward Mia, his attitude noticeably polite now.
"Miss Stone," he asked carefully, "which points did you needle to trigger that reaction?"
Mrs. Reed couldn't help herself; she let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh.
"Her? A convicted felon? What would she know about acupuncture?"
Mia's expression didn't change.
"I don't know acupuncture," she said evenly. "I just happen to own a set of silver needles."
She continued in the same mild tone, as if the whole scene had nothing to do with her.
"I noticed one of Mr. Reed's shirt buttons had come loose. I wanted to sew it back on and must have startled Mrs. Reed. As for his improvement… maybe it's because your treatment was effective, Doctor. Or maybe he's simply blessed with good fortune."
The doctor glanced between Mia and the still-unconscious Lucian, then seemed to remember her background—a prisoner released on parole to marry in.
His suspicion faded.
He sighed. "In the end, if we truly want to cure him, we still have to find Dr. Quentin Hale."
Dr. Quentin Hale came from a long line of physicians. He himself was a legend in the medical world, famous for miracles in critical care and for his almost supernatural mastery of acupuncture.
People liked to say, "If Death schedules you for midnight, he can keep you alive until dawn." They were talking about Quentin Hale.
Mia's eyes flickered for a brief second, but no one noticed.
Old Mr. Reed, on the other hand, was looking at her with growing satisfaction.
It really did seem as if she was Lucian's lucky star. Otherwise, how could his condition have eased the moment she arrived?
His stern face softened into something almost kind.
"Mia, you've worked hard taking care of Lucian," he said. "If you need anything, tell the staff."
"Yes, sir," Mia replied. "Thank you, sir."
"'Sir'?" he echoed, one gray brow lifting. "Still calling me 'sir'?"
Mia paused, then corrected herself promptly.
"Grandpa," she said.
That earned her a genuinely pleased nod.
"I've already sent someone to get the marriage certificate processed," Old Mr. Reed told her. "Don't worry about anything. You and Lucian should rest early."
He left with the crowd in tow.
The room quieted once more.
Mia sat back down by the bed and took Lucian's wrist again, checking his pulse.
It was much steadier than before. At least he was no longer hanging by a thread, ready to die at any second. But this was only enough to keep him alive; he was still a long way from truly recovering.
Her stomach twisted with a sharp pang.
She hadn't eaten anything all day.
Mia finally pushed herself to her feet and headed for the door, planning to go downstairs and find something—anything—to put in her stomach.
She had just pulled the door open when a young man appeared in the doorway, hand raised as if he'd been about to knock.
They almost bumped into each other.
"And you are?" she asked, brows lifting.
"I should be asking you that," he said with a lazy smile. "But I can guess. You must be the 'lucky bride' the Stones sent over."
"I'm Mia Stone," she replied.
"So you are."
The young man—Evan Reed—let his gaze roam over her openly.
The old dress that no longer fit quite right couldn't hide her curves. Her skin was pale as cream, smooth like polished jade. Her face was bare, without a trace of makeup, and still so beautiful it made his fingers itch.
A flash of raw appreciation lit his eyes. His heart gave a restless little leap.
"Sister-in-law," he drawled, lips curling, "aren't you going to invite me in?"
"It's not convenient," Mia said coolly. "If you have something to say, say it here."
"You saw it yourself," Evan went on, as if he hadn't heard the warning in her voice. "My cousin doesn't have long. You were brought in as a lucky charm. Once he dies, things won't end well for you either."
He leaned casually against the doorframe, tone light and coaxing.
"You're young and beautiful, Mia. You really should think ahead."
"What exactly are you suggesting?" Mia lowered her eyes, her tone emotionless.
To Evan, it sounded like fear.
He grew bolder.
"In the Reed family, everything goes to the eldest direct heir," he said bluntly. "When Lucian dies, I'll be the one in charge."
He looked her up and down again, pupils darkening.
"If you're smart enough to help end his suffering early," he murmured, "I'll make sure you're well taken care of. A woman like you deserves to be… properly spoiled."
As he spoke, Evan reached out to touch her shoulder.
His fingers never landed.
Mia's hand snapped up, clamping hard around his wrist. With a sharp twist and a smooth shift of her weight, the world spun for Evan.
He hit the floor with a bone-jarring thud.
Pain exploded through his body. For a second he thought his organs had all shifted positions. His handsome face contorted with rage.
"Mia Stone!" he shouted. "You've got some nerve, putting your hands on me! I'll tell Grandpa right now and have him throw you out of this house, you poisonous woman!"
Mia didn't even flinch.
"Go ahead," she said mildly. "Ask Grandpa whether he wants to throw me out—or throw out the second young master who tried to murder his cousin and molest his cousin's wife."
Evan gave a harsh laugh.
"You think Grandpa's going to believe you over me?" he sneered. "You really believe he'll fall for your little provocations?"
"Whether he believes me or not isn't the key point," Mia replied.
She slipped a phone from her pocket and tilted it so he could see the recording interface glowing on the screen.
"What matters," she said softly, "is that I have everything you just said on tape."
Evan's expression drained of color.
Then he forced out a shaky chuckle.
"Misunderstanding," he said quickly. "It's all a misunderstanding. I was just… testing you. To see if you were loyal to my cousin."
He scrambled to his feet, dusting off his clothes.
"You did great. Really. You passed." He laughed again, the sound high and strained. "It's getting late. You and my cousin should rest."
With that, he turned and scurried down the hall, tail practically between his legs.
Mia shut the door in his wake, her face completely blank.
Any desire she'd had to go downstairs and eat was gone now. She picked at some fruit left in the room instead, enough to take the edge off her hunger.
After an entire day of being pushed from one crisis to the next, exhaustion settled into her bones.
She grabbed a set of clean clothes the staff had left for her and went into the bathroom to wash up. For all the rushed arrangements, the servants had still prepared everything a new bride might need.
Once the water was running and steam began to fill the small room, Mia took the creased photo of her boys out again, pressing a soft kiss to it. Her lashes trembled; the corners of her eyes burned hot.
Babies… Mommy will bring you home soon.
When she came out of the bathroom, she lifted the covers and climbed into bed.
Sharing a bed with a man she'd only just met—one who was unconscious, no less—made her shoulders tense up. She couldn't quite relax.
She turned her head, studying Lucian's face in the dim light.
Even like this, pale and motionless, he was almost unrealistically handsome. Fine-boned features, sculpted lines, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.
Strangely, she felt a flicker of sympathy.
Poisoned, hovering on the edge of death. A cousin eyeing his inheritance. Even the "lucky bride" sent to save his life had been targeted by that same cousin.
Honestly, his situation might be worse than hers.
The thought made her huff out a quiet laugh.
"I guess that makes us a tragic husband-and-wife duo," she murmured.
Lucian really was too good-looking. Even unconscious, that flawless face had a wicked sort of charm.
Mia's fingertips drifted over his cheek, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. On impulse, she gave his face a gentle pinch.
Soft. Warm. Surprisingly smooth.
Well, she thought, amused, I've technically molested my own husband now. If those old men find out, they might even say I've finally done something impressive.
Satisfied with her tiny act of rebellion, Mia settled down, ready to sleep.
Her wrist was suddenly seized in a steel grip.
A powerful force yanked her forward. Her body toppled, crashing into a solid, muscular chest.
"Ah!"
Her startled cry barely left her throat before she snapped her head up—
—and saw the man on the bed slowly, unmistakably opening his eyes.