The CRACKLE of the fireplace filled the room with a warm sound. The woman was fast asleep, her small face pale. Her grip on his fingers was incredibly light, like the gentle brush of a soft feather. Unintentionally, it sparked a tingling sensation that bypassed all his defenses and struck straight at his heart.
Miles Yates did not move.
He seemed to be helplessly witnessing the spectacular collapse of his own inner walls.
Zoe Lancaster was completely oblivious to what was happening beside her. She curled up slightly, her brow furrowing tighter. Who knew what she was dreaming about, but her lips parted in a soft murmur. "Simon Hawthorne..."
At the sound of that name, Miles finally showed a faint reaction. He stared deeply into the woman’s face before slowly slipping his hand out from her grasp and tucking the blanket back over her.
"He isn’t right for you," he said softly. "Stop torturing yourself."
He knew she couldn’t hear him, but his mind was already a tangled mess. Turning toward the door, he opened it and left.
After heading downstairs and getting into the car, Mason Sullivan glanced back at Miles. He couldn’t quite read the situation, but he couldn’t shake the feeling...
President Yates was quietly doing something utterly insane.
After all, the woman inside was Simon Hawthorne’s wife.
Miles turned his head to look at the building as he dialed Jules Yates. The call connected almost instantly—Jules had clearly been waiting by the phone.
"Miles? How is she? Is Buddy alright?"
Miles hooked a finger under his tie and loosened it. "She’s asleep. She looks fine for now."
"If I had known, I would’ve just sacrificed myself and married her!" Jules cursed through gritted teeth. "Then she wouldn’t have ended up suffering so much after marrying that ungrateful bastard!"
"Do you still have feelings for her?" Miles asked nonchalantly.
Jules fell silent for a moment, seriously considering the question. "I feel like she’s closer to family now. It’s a much deeper bond than romance. Men and women don’t always have to be about love, you know? That’s too cliché. I think our relationship is rock solid right now. Sure, I had a crush on her, but everyone has a youth. The past is the past."
Another reason was that he had known for a long time that Zoe didn’t see him that way. He was a pragmatic guy, so he spent two years convincing himself of this fact until he gradually accepted it. Being friends and family was something that lasted much longer.
He did like Zoe, but those feelings had evolved.
Affection came in many forms; it didn’t solely have to be romantic love.
"So I think that if I had married her back then, I would have treated her incredibly well," Jules continued. "I would never let her suffer the slightest grievance. Even if there was no romance, I wouldn’t have minded making that sacrifice. Love is such an elusive thing anyway. It’s here today and gone tomorrow; there’s no guarantee it lasts. A relationship like ours would actually be much more in sync. After all, compatibility is the key to happiness."
Jules truly regretted it.
He couldn’t bear to see Zoe unhappy, yet all he could do now was watch helplessly, powerless to change anything.
Miles lowered his eyes faintly. He was a striking man; even the fading sunlight streaming through the car window seemed to linger greedily on his handsome face. After a moment, he spoke slowly. "What do you think of me?"
Jules sounded like he was busy on the other end, but he still replied, "Miles, do you even have to ask? Go ask around Portellis. Nine out of ten people sing your praises. So many socialites are scrambling over themselves to marry you. Why are you asking this?"
"To solve your dilemma," Miles said.
"Huh?"
Miles lifted his gaze, already reverting to his usual gentle and elegant demeanor. "A smooth life can be rather dull. Sometimes, adding a bold, heavy stroke of color makes it all the more thrilling."
Jules was utterly bewildered. "Ah? What are you talking about..."
Before he could finish, the man on the phone dropped a bombshell.
"I want to pursue Zoe Lancaster."
"..."
"...?!"
Jules’s hand trembled so violently that he instantly spilled his iced coffee. His expression contorted through a kaleidoscope of emotions before he finally choked out a word. "Fuck...
"Miles, your dating strategy is absolutely wild!
"You refuse to date anyone for thirty years.
"And the moment you finally have an awakening, you want to play the other man!"
Evening fell. The glow of the setting sun blanketed the ground, creating an atmosphere of cozy tranquility.
A car slowly came to a halt.
Simon Hawthorne stared at his phone with cold eyes.
"The number you have dialed is powered off..."
He couldn’t reach Zoe. She seemed dead set on throwing a tantrum and freezing him out. It had been two days, and he still hadn’t tracked down her whereabouts.
A dull ache throbbed in his temples, prompting him to purse his lips and massage his brow.
"Mr. Hawthorne, we’re here," Linden gently reminded him from the front seat.
Only then did Simon put his phone away. "Mm."
He opened the door and stepped out of the car.
His grandfather’s condition was still quite poor. For the past two days, aside from investigating the suspicious details of the kidnapping, Simon had spent most of his time at the Hawthorne Residence.
He headed straight for the old man’s courtyard.
The moment he walked through the door, the sharp scent of disinfectant hit him. His grandfather lay on the bed, emaciated from illness, but turned his head at the sound of the approaching footsteps.
"Come sit," the old man called out, waving a hand.
With his coat draped over his arm, Simon walked over and glanced at the vital signs monitor before speaking. "Have you taken your medication today?"
The old man looked at him with sharp eyes. "I took it. Don’t worry about me."
His expression unchanging, Simon tucked the blanket around his grandfather. His tone was devoid of emotion. "The medication from abroad will arrive soon. Once your condition stabilizes, we’ll fly you overseas for further treatment. I’ve hired the best team of oncology specialists. Everything will be fine."
"I know my own body. I don’t have much time left, so save the pretty words," the old man said, waving his hand dismissively. He seemed completely at peace with his fate.
This caused Simon to frown.
The old man looked at him. "How are things between you and Miss Lancaster?"
Showing no emotion, Simon gave a relaxed reply. "We’re fine."
"Don’t try to fool me." The old man scoffed coldly. "I already know what happened. You weren’t wrong to choose Peyton that day. After all, we owe her for the past. As for Miss Lancaster, it was her own unresolved family drama that dragged Peyton into this mess. She has no right to complain."
Simon paused mid-motion, his thumb resting against his pinky ring.
Lowering his eyes, he concealed the deep thoughts swirling within them.
"I’ve heard that the Lancaster family lacks proper morals," the old man continued. "Your mother told me that Miss Lancaster’s stepsister is trying to use a child to force Sean Sheffield into marriage?"
Simon didn’t answer.
The old man frowned, his eyes full of disgust. "One messy scandal after another. You married a Lancaster daughter, and now her sister has offended the Sheffield family. Where does that leave the Hawthorne family? We’re just being dragged down in their humiliation!"
Simon slowly raised his gaze to look at his grandfather. A profound coldness reflected in his stagnant, pool-like eyes, though his tone remained perfectly level. "As you said, she’s a stepsister—an outsider brought into the family. What does that have to do with Zoe? At the end of the day, she was just caught in the crossfire."
The old man stared at him with cloudy eyes before finally letting out a cold hum. "You’re certainly being fair, but do you think the Sheffield family will see it that way?"
He took a slow breath. He had once been a man of immense power, used to acting with absolute authority, and even in his old age and illness, his commanding aura remained intact. "Your mother’s suggestion was right.
"The two of you aren’t compatible. Divorce her and give her some compensation.
"That way, Peyton won’t have to keep waiting for you."