That evening, the couple sat in their room. Hazel Sinclair was checking the wounds on Leon Sterling’s body, which were already starting to scab over.
"They’re scabbing over. They’ll be fine in a few days," Hazel Sinclair said, touching the wound on his arm.
She then checked the wound on Leon Sterling’s forehead, which had also scabbed over.
Worried the wound on his forehead might leave a scar, Hazel Sinclair quickly rummaged for that ridiculously expensive ointment and said, "We can’t have this leaving a scar on your forehead."
"You wouldn’t be as handsome otherwise," Hazel Sinclair said earnestly, stroking his handsome face.
Leon Sterling lifted his hand to stroke the back of hers, his gaze fixed on her as he asked, "Hazel, would you still like me if I were disfigured?"
"Or do you only like me for my face?"
Hazel Sinclair was speechless.
"I’d like you even if you were disfigured, don’t worry," Hazel Sinclair replied, gently patting his cheek.
Hearing her words, Leon Sterling pulled her into his arms and planted a firm kiss on her forehead.
"Then I can rest easy," Leon Sterling said with a smile.
The next day, Hazel Sinclair was woken up.
"What’s so important you had to wake me up this early in the morning?" Hazel Sinclair asked, looking at him in confusion.
"The prison called. Vincent Hawthorne wants to see you," Leon Sterling said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.
"Do you want to see him?"
At his words, Hazel Sinclair was instantly wide awake. ’Vincent Hawthorne wants to see me.’
"Yes!" Hazel Sinclair agreed without a second thought. "When can we go?"
"We can go in a bit," Leon Sterling replied.
"Okay." Hazel Sinclair immediately scrambled out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash up. As she passed the guest bedroom, she noticed it was empty.
Even the backpack Jill Kensington had brought over yesterday was gone.
Hazel Sinclair let out a soft "Huh?" and asked, "She went back?"
’Could Cillian Holloway have threatened her, forcing her to leave?’
"Mhm," Leon Sterling nodded. "She left at eight-thirty."
"That’s pretty early," Hazel Sinclair commented.
After washing up, she changed her clothes and left with Leon Sterling.
As they sat in the ride-share, Leon Sterling recalled what Ethan Sinclair had said yesterday—that he should buy Hazel Sinclair a car to get around in.
"What do you think of a Rolls-Royce Phantom?" Leon Sterling asked, looking over at her as he opened his phone and searched for the official Rolls-Royce Phantom website.
Hearing the name of the car, Hazel Sinclair let out a dry laugh. He was actually asking her what she thought of a Rolls-Royce Phantom.
’It’s a luxury car. Who am I to be picky?’
"I think it’s fantastic," Hazel Sinclair said with a nod.
"Okay."
After his brief acknowledgment, Leon Sterling started browsing for the car. The trip to the prison only took half an hour, and in that time, he had already placed an order for Hazel Sinclair’s car.
The car stopped outside the prison. After getting out, they walked up to an officer and gave their names.
Upon learning they were there for a visit, the officer immediately had someone escort them inside.
In the visiting room, Vincent Hawthorne sat with his hands in cuffs, dressed in the standard prison uniform—a deep blue jumpsuit.
When he saw Hazel Sinclair, his expressionless face finally twisted into a vicious snarl.
After they both picked up the phones in front of them, Vincent Hawthorne’s furious voice crackled through the receiver. "You bitch!"
"So you didn’t die after all."
"You fell into the sea just to set me up, didn’t you?" Vincent Hawthorne wasn’t a complete idiot; the moment he saw Hazel Sinclair sitting before him, he understood everything.
But Hazel Sinclair didn’t answer, simply smirking at his furious expression.
Her smirk infuriated Vincent Hawthorne. He immediately roared, "You bitch! I’ll kill you when I get out of here!"
"You’re never getting out of this prison in your lifetime," Hazel Sinclair said, looking at him with dead seriousness.
"Just stay in here and ’reform’ yourself. This is the price for messing with me." Watching him like this, the smile never left Hazel Sinclair’s face.
"Bitch!" Vincent Hawthorne repeated the insult over and over, but to Hazel Sinclair, it was nothing.
She had heard far worse.
"You scheming bitch! How dare you set me up!" Vincent Hawthorne’s face was contorted with rage. He was always the one scheming against others; now he had been played by a woman he looked down on.
Seeing that Hazel Sinclair was still alive was something he found especially hard to accept.
"I won’t let you get away with this," Vincent Hawthorne spat viciously.
"You rotten bastard. Just stay in here and fester." After saying her piece, Hazel Sinclair set the phone down, stood up, and walked straight out.
Leon Sterling, who had been waiting outside, saw her and quickly took her hand. "Did he say anything nasty to you?"
"If he did, tell me, and I’ll teach him a lesson for you," Leon Sterling said, watching her.
"Not really," Hazel Sinclair shook her head. "But seeing that I’m still alive seems to have made him furious."
Leon Sterling nodded, understanding why Vincent Hawthorne was so angry.
He thought that even if he went to prison, at least Hazel Sinclair had died in the sea. Now, seeing her standing before him, alive and well, how could Vincent Hawthorne possibly accept it?
Rage and resentment surged through him, making him livid.
They took a cab back. After dropping her off at home, Leon Sterling gathered his things, grabbed his bag, and headed out.
Before leaving, he said to Hazel Sinclair, who was sitting on the sofa, "Hazel, I’m heading out for work."
"You be good at home. I won’t be back for lunch, but I’ll order some takeout for you," Leon Sterling instructed.
"Okay..." Hazel Sinclair replied.
After Leon Sterling left, Hazel Sinclair immediately turned up the volume and started watching videos of handsome guys doing suggestive dances.
As she was scrolling, a particular video suddenly appeared on her feed.
"The world is so big, and life is so long. Let’s do something meaningful together."
The girl speaking was bundled up tightly, holding a shovel with a vast expanse of sand behind her. From the sound of her voice, you could tell she was very happy.
"Let’s plant trees together."
Hazel Sinclair was shocked to see such an uplifting, positive video.
’Isn’t my feed supposed to be all videos of hot guys dancing? How did a PSA about planting trees pop up?’ Hazel Sinclair grumbled to herself.
But even as she complained, her hands couldn’t resist searching for the place the young woman was promoting.
Ashvale, a place far, far away.
Desertification there was severe, so people were needed to plant trees to prevent and control sand drift and stabilize the soil.
"Wow, it looks pretty desolate," Hazel Sinclair murmured, then found a donation link and sent fifty thousand yuan over.
Now that she had money, she could afford to be this generous.
At the studio, Leon Sterling was listening to his employees report on their progress over the past few days.
But his gaze would occasionally drift to his laptop screen. Seeing the small red dot on it remain stationary, an immense sense of relief washed over him.