If Maurice possessed even a veneer of politeness a moment ago, it was utterly gone. The mask slipped, revealing his true nature. A palpable tension filled the air as his gaze locked with Felicia's, like a predator focusing on its prey.

Felicia, however, remained unfazed. Calmly, she played the innocent. "Well, the job's done. I'm heading home now."

Two men stepped forward, blocking her exit.

She raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "What's the meaning of this?"

Maurice advanced, his smile seemingly polite, yet edged with menace. "Ms. Fuller, you're a valued guest of the Glovers family. I haven't properly hosted you. Stay a few more days, won't you?"

Felicia tilted her head, her tone casual, yet subtly defiant. "And if I insist on leaving?"

"Then you'd be displaying poor manners." His smile widened, his voice deceptively gentle, but brimming with threat.

Felicia offered a soft acknowledgment, neither angry nor distressed by his duplicity. Her composure surprised Maurice.

He dismissed her reaction. She was merely prey—a trapped bird, flapping futilely in a gilded cage.

For the first time in years, Maurice experienced true freedom. Walking, unburdened by his wheelchair, felt euphoric. He reveled in his ability to stand and move independently.

His men were equally elated, their faces radiant with joy. Their boss's recovery meant the Glovers family's power would only increase.

The air around the hot spring buzzed with celebration. No one noticed Felicia, the "valuable guest" whose usefulness had expired, about to be discarded like a broken tool.

Even Kelsey arrived, beaming. Seeing her grandson standing, she clasped her prayer beads, murmuring blessings. "Praise be! What a miracle! My grandson can walk again!"

But as the celebration reached its peak, Maurice's smile froze. His legs locked.

The celebratory chatter ceased instantly as he toppled backward, like a felled tree.

"Mr. Glovers!" his men cried out.

Chaos erupted. His men reacted swiftly. One threw himself down as a cushion. Another steadied him before he hit the ground, while others frantically retrieved his wheelchair. Within minutes, the upright Maurice was back in his chair.

Panic spread among his men as Maurice, his jaw clenched with fury, attempted to move his legs. They remained unresponsive. A storm brewed in his eyes. He fixed his sharp gaze on Felicia, his tone icy.

"What did you do?"

Felicia offered a sweet, almost innocent smile. "Hmm... Perhaps you celebrated prematurely?" Her nonchalant tone and smug expression stung like a slap. Maurice's knuckles whitened as his rage boiled over. His voice boomed across the spring. "Caesar, come here!"

Caesar shuffled forward, nervously.

Under Maurice's murderous glare, Caesar examined his pulse with trembling hands. He was visibly shaken, his eyes betraying unmistakable fear.

Restraining his simmering rage, Maurice asked coldly, "What's the verdict?"

The answer was obvious. A man who could barely stand had managed only five minutes upright before collapsing back into his wheelchair. Everything had reverted.

With trembling hands and a cautious tone, Caesar carefully chose his words. "Mr. Glovers, please forgive me, but I must be honest. The toxins in your body were nearly gone. But after checking your pulse, I've discovered that half have returned."

"So, you're saying I can't walk again?" Maurice demanded.