Chapter 652

Maeve bit her lip and pulled the jacket tighter around herself. "I... I can't get dressed," she murmured. Liam smirked coldly. "What? A single whip strike and you're unable to move?" Maeve shot him an exasperated glare. "My arm is dislocated!" she snapped. Liam paused, taken aback for a moment. He moved closer, lifting the jacket draped over her shoulders. She instinctively covered her chest with one arm. "What are you doing!" she demanded. "Don't move," Liam ordered, his voice stern, his brow furrowed. Reluctantly, Maeve stayed still as Liam carefully lifted her right arm, immediately noticing the dislocation. Without lifting his gaze, he asked, "How did this happen?" "Who else but Mr. Hartman, your trusted aide?" Maeve replied with a hint of sarcasm. "He's holding a grudge because I reported him to you. He deliberately dislocated my arm, tried to assault Tessa, and even threatened to throw her into the sea if she didn't comply. "When I stood up for her, he turned his vile intentions on me. You sure have a talent for picking people who match your style, Mr. Larson." Liam's expression darkened at her straight-up criticism, but he replied coldly, "Maybe it's best if your arm stays dislocated. There's no need to fix it." He turned to leave, but Maeve quickly grabbed him with her left hand. "Liam! This mess is your responsibility, and now you want to punish me?" "Ms. Scott, you've got quite a sharp tongue. It's starting to irritate me. What should I do about that?" Noticing his anger, Maeve bit her lip intentionally. "Fine, I take back what I said. But please, call a doctor to fix my arm! If we wait too long, it might not heal properly." For the first time, Liam noticed a flicker of panic in Maeve's eyes. He raised an eyebrow and turned back toward her. "So, the fearless Ms. Scott is afraid of losing an arm?" "Every woman wants to look her best. Losing an arm would be quite ridiculous." Maeve frowned and added, "If you won't help, I'll do it myself." She moved as if to reposition her arm, but Liam quickly grabbed her left hand, his voice sharp as he roared, "Are you insane? You can't just set a bone yourself!" "Well, I don't have much choice! You won't help me, so I'll do it on my own," Maeve retorted, defiant. Liam sighed inwardly, realizing he couldn't win this argument. He kept reminding himself that Maeve was still useful, and he couldn't let his anger get the best of him. He stepped closer and sat on the edge of the bed. He then firmly grasped Maeve's arm and shoulder. Her voice wavered with fear. "W-What are you doing?" "Repositioning your bone," Liam replied. "Are you even qualified? You're not a doctor. Liam, you can't be doing this just to get back at me for what I said earlier!" she retorted. Ignoring her protests, Liam glanced at her briefly before swiftly popping her arm back into place with a sharp crack. Maeve gasped in pain but quickly realized she could move her arm again. She blinked in surprise. "It's… done?" "You should be thankful I even bothered," Liam said, standing up and heading to the bathroom to wash his hands. Maeve asked, "How could a CEO like you know how to reposition a bone?" He didn't respond. She pressed on, "Were you some kind of enforcer before?" Liam emerged from the bathroom and called out to someone outside the door. "Come in."