Lizzy was staring ahead, not even having the chance to ask what was going on with Remington before he hopped out of the car. Then, the door swung open, and Lizzy felt a gentle grip on her arm.

"It looks like he's suffering from acute gastroenteritis. I know a massage technique that can alleviate the pain. You go up front, and I'll take care of him," Remington said with a serious expression, convincing Lizzy to believe him. She began to step out of the car, but Jerome stopped her, "No need to trouble Mr. Dashiell, we're almost at the hospital..."

"It's no trouble!" Remington interrupted, pulling Lizzy out and taking her place beside Jerome.

"Liz, call Mr. Madden 'brother.' We're all family here, no need for formalities," Remington said, his deep gaze fixed on Jerome. Lizzy, in her innocence, might not have noticed, but Remington was not easily fooled by Jerome.

Even if Jerome was genuinely unwell, how could a man who had weathered so many storms be brought down by this minor ailment? Jerome met Remington's intense stare with an icy glint in his eyes.

"Mr. Dashiell, you're mistaken. You're a Foster, we're Maddens; we can't possibly be family," Jerome retorted.

Remington's lips curled slightly, "As long as Mr. Madden knows that Liz and he share the Madden name, that's what counts."

Their verbal duel filled the back seat with a palpable tension.

As the car started moving again, Lizzy turned from the passenger seat to shoot a frown at Remington, her tone slightly cold.

"I thought you said you were going to do a massage? Go ahead then."

This man, always quick to jealousy, was one thing, but being so dismissive of someone's health

wasn't just

she so biased, so double-standard! Remington felt wronged, but he didn't dare

Suppressing his distaste, he

spot between the thumb and forefinger, sneering as he asked Jerome, "Mr.

en

slightly pale. It did help; the pain seemed to

effective. It

bear it

of the ride was silent, and thankfully, they

a quick examination, it was confirmed that Jerome had gastroenteritis triggered by

the bed, gently wiping the sweat from his forehead

kind of business

when you know

You just

back in shape, and

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