Rewrite Her Thrilling Life (Lillian and Sebastian) novel Chapter 291

Chapter 291: The First Strike

After confirming that Ryan was out of danger, Lillian carefully withdrew the silver needles from his body.

Sebastian’s eyes remained fixed on her, his usual sternness softening slightly. “How is he?” he asked quietly, concern evident in his voice.

“He’ll be fine,” Lillian answered with a calm, steady tone. “Have someone take him somewhere quiet to rest. He should regain consciousness in about an hour.”

Foster, standing nearby, quickly signaled for assistance, and a couple of aides stepped forward to help carry Ryan out of the room.

Only once the room was empty did Lillian slowly rise to her feet. With deliberate calm, she wiped the blade she held clean and handed it back to the middle-aged man standing before her. “Thank you for your knife,” she said politely.

The man offered a warm smile. “No need to mention it. It’s an honor to witness such expert skill.” Then, extending his right hand with a courteous yet firm tone, he added, “I realize this might seem sudden, but I’d like to introduce myself properly. My name is Thabo.”

The name alone sent a subtle ripple through the atmosphere. Thabo—well-known in Kingston as the head of one of the city’s most prestigious medical families, steeped in generations of traditional healing knowledge. In contrast, Jorge was the leader in modern medical practice. People often spoke of Thabo and Jorge as two giants in their respective fields, their influence shaping Kingston’s medical landscape in profound ways.

Whispers circulated that pharmaceutical companies had once offered staggering sums for one of Thabo’s rare formulas, but the man was famously selective, almost ascetic in his principles and unwilling to compromise.

Lillian met his handshake with poised confidence. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Lillian.”

With the introductions complete, it was time to shift focus to the matter at hand.

She moved gracefully toward Hans, closing the gap between them with measured steps. Her face remained composed, but her eyes were sharp and icy. “Ms. Hans, have you ever encountered a cockroach? The kind that refuses to die no matter how many times you try to squash it—those that keep coming back, scurrying around and causing a nuisance?”

Hans clutched her swollen cheek, her vision blurring with a mixture of anger and humiliation. She glared at the two of them, so close, so intimate. Jealousy twisted deep in her gut, thick and poisonous.

She was the one who had been publicly shamed; she was the one who deserved sympathy. Yet here she was, left to burn in her own disgrace.

To make matters worse, no one had ever dared strike her before—not in public, not like this. She had always been the adored star, the darling of the crowd. This humiliation branded her deeply, a wound she could not bring herself to accept.

Lyla approached, her expression sharp with indignation as she fixed Lillian with a piercing glare. “Ms. Harrington, don’t you think you’ve gone too far? Ms. Hans is a public figure. Slapping her like this in front of everyone—how is she supposed to face the industry again?”

Lyla’s righteous tone only added fuel to the fire. Hans’ eyes immediately welled with tears, shimmering with practiced grievance. “Lillian, you’re just throwing your weight around because Mr. Whitmore favors you. And I wasn’t wrong—you and Mr. Ryan aren’t exactly innocent. Back in Solara, I saw you two together, whispering and laughing. Don’t tell me that wasn’t true. Hitting me just proves you can’t handle the truth.”