Chapter 244: A Quiet Weekend at the Lloyd Mansion
"Sir, are you sure it's wise to take Lorna to the short-track speed skating competition? Those events can be dangerous," Sherman hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Such sports are known for their electrifying intensity, brimming with speed and chaos, often skirting the edge of disaster."
As Kellan's assistant, Sherman had become increasingly perplexed by his boss's recent decisions. The old Kellan—the one Sherman had served for years—would never have let Lorna leave the estate, much less allowed her near a potentially perilous arena.
"Her father was passionate about short-track speed skating," Kellan explained. "He won his fair share of trophies, too. Maybe… seeing something familiar will stir some memories in Lorna." His voice carried the weight of long-buried memories.
Kellan had always had a taste for the extreme. Before the accident—before losing his ability to walk and, worse, Lorna's father to the mafia—he and Lorna's father had participated in countless adrenaline-fueled competitions. Afterward, Kellan had walled off his heart. Were it not for Allison's words, he might have kept Lorna under lock and key forever. "But that wasn't a life," he mused. "Irrespective of the potential risks, Lorna needs to cultivate resilience and embrace emotional vulnerability. She needs to grow strong, even in the face of danger. I can't protect her forever. One day, I'll be gone—maybe from an accident, or worse. Instead of relying on others, Lorna needs to stand on her own."
Kellan knew all too well the enemies he'd accumulated over the years as heir to the Lloyd Group. Danger was a constant companion, and if he were to meet his end, survival would become a tall order for Lorna. Therefore, the priority was helping her reclaim a sense of normalcy. The first step? Reintroducing her to activities her father cherished, like short-track speed skating, and gradually coaxing her out of her shell.
"So, you're saying exposing Lorna to these past activities could aid in her recovery?" Sherman asked, piecing it together.
"Exactly," Kellan replied. "Just ensure bodyguards are on standby."
"Got it. I'll set it up right away," Sherman replied, beginning to grasp the shift in his boss's perspective. This change seemed linked to Allison's presence, who had made a significant impact on Kellan. However, Sherman wisely chose not to probe further, knowing Kellan's temper could be as unpredictable as a storm, his calm reserved only for Allison.
Soon, the much-anticipated short-track speed skating competition, held every five years, kicked off. Ontdale's largest sports stadium buzzed with excitement; security established a perimeter three streets away. Journalists flocked like moths to a flame, eager for the latest scoop.
Meanwhile, Rebecca's excitement was palpable. "Hey, Allison, check out that handsome guy over there!" Following her gaze, Allison noticed a muscular man flaunting his physique to the southeast.
"He's okay," she replied with a shrug.
"What do you mean, 'okay'? Are you kidding me?" Rebecca exclaimed. "Be honest, have you seen better-looking guys than him?"
"It's not that," Allison answered. "I just don't find him attractive." Her mind, however, couldn't help but conjure an image of Kellan's broad, powerful back. The memory of their one-night stand during a turbulent moment on a cruise had left an imprint of Kellan's presence more than his physique. Later, she had inadvertently seen Kellan, bare and wounded, in the restricted section of the mansion. His broad shoulders and narrow waist were starkly visible, and even his shallow breaths exuded an irresistible allure. And yet, he seemed to prefer being dominated. Allison pondered Kellan's intriguing contradictions.
Outside, the crowd buzzed with excitement. "Did you hear that? The organizers are really pulling out all the stops this time! The prize money is nearly one million, and the winners' names will be etched on the medals forever!"
"Each champion's name will be carved into the trophy, immortalized for all time! This edition is shaping up to be a true showcase of talent."
"I heard Travis Rivera, the reigning champion for three consecutive terms, is also in the running."
"What's up with this competitor named Lemonade? I've never heard of them before. But the name rings a bell—wasn't he the champion of the Perfumery Competition? Could just be a coincidence."
As the competition drew a mix of seasoned professionals and amateur legends, front-row tickets were selling like hotcakes, filling the organizers' coffers. Allison narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.
"Travis Rivera?!"