His words had been spoken so lightly.
Yet hidden beneath them was a piercing contempt that left one bleeding. From beginning to end, he was the man who controlled everything—brooding, manipulative, and full of calculated schemes.
A hint of sharpness surfaced on Miles Yates’s typically gentle face. His gaze landed on Zoe Lancaster’s profile. The woman had her eyes shut tightly, seemingly trying to escape and resist this humiliating situation. On her neck, a dense cluster of hickeys blatantly displayed the perpetrator’s sickening possessiveness.
He looked away, unwilling to add even a fraction more psychological pressure on her.
Staring directly at Simon Hawthorne, his imposing aura not losing out in the slightest, he asked, "You looked into my itinerary?"
Simon did not deny it. His candidness could sometimes leave people defenseless. "You went to Easton Resort for a meeting. The drive back usually takes around two hours. But President Yates really went all out, shaving off a whole forty minutes. Do you really place so little value on your own life?"
Simon was a man who preferred absolute certainty. He never did anything he wasn’t confident in. Coming here today, he knew the brothers of the Yates family would be an obstacle, so he had factored everything in. His current encounter with Miles was merely another link in his calculated plan.
Miles narrowed his sharp eyes in near mockery. "Have you ever considered her feelings?"
Simon tilted his head to look at him. "Zoe Lancaster is my wife. Don’t overstep your bounds, President Yates. It would be a shame to ruin the stellar reputation you’ve built over so many years at the very last moment."
These words ruthlessly tore away the veil of politeness. If Miles harbored any inappropriate thoughts toward a married woman, he would only be destroying his own good name. Evidently, this struck a nerve, making Miles frown slightly.
Seizing the momentary pause, Simon carried Zoe past him.
Right after, Miles cast a faint look in his direction. "Do you even love her? Why hold her back?"
Simon paused. His eyelashes drooped slightly as he looked down at the woman in his arms, who had her eyes closed and was biting her lip. Unreadable emotions flickered in his dark pupils—complex, profound, and intense.
A moment later, he resumed walking, leaving behind a cold, slightly mocking sentence. "But she loves me."
Not only did Miles’s expression shift, but Zoe’s entire body went rigid. An inexplicable wave of emotion washed over her. It felt like humiliation, mixed with bitterness, but most of all, it was sheer shock.
Simon Hawthorne knew everything. He knew about the feelings she kept hidden deep in her heart. He understood the reasons behind her constant awkwardness. He knew that when she expressed her affection, it was both an act and the genuine truth.
Yet... he had never responded directly, nor had he ever truly cared.
He was so utterly certain of it, and he used that certainty to brutally shatter her self-esteem. She was originally just a woman after his money. When the time came to settle the financial score, it would just be mutual exploitation; she wouldn’t have to bow her head to him. But now, she was nothing more than an unloved joke.
Throughout the entire journey back, Zoe did not say a word. She curled up in the corner of the car, her mind relentlessly echoing his words: "But she loves me."
So, because he was certain she loved him, she had to endure everything? Did he think her love made her indestructible, allowing him to hurt her time and time again?
Zoe stared out the window. Her delicate, pale face was devoid of expression; she refused to allow herself to show even a hint of sorrow.
When she used to act with Simon, she had nothing to hold her back. She could bare her fangs and flaunt her claws without restraint. But now that her true feelings were completely exposed, she didn’t even have the strength to struggle. It was truly tormenting sometimes. She had never been like this before.
They arrived back at Somerset Gardens.
When the servants saw Simon carrying Zoe inside, their expressions turned rather strange, though they remained deeply respectful. "Madam, you’re back. Are you hungry? The kitchen can prepare whatever you’d like right away."
Zoe had completely lost her appetite. She was just about to refuse when she heard Simon speak up. "Stew a bowl of bird’s nest."
Holding her like this, he felt that Zoe seemed to have lost weight. He disliked it when she tried to maintain her figure for the sake of beauty; it only made her more prone to getting sick and weakened her immune system.
Zoe frowned, too exhausted to argue.
Back in the bedroom, she was carried to the bed and laid down.
Simon checked the time. It was just past eight o’clock. He sat by the edge of the bed, lowering his gaze as he tucked the covers around her. "Have some bird’s nest later before you go take a shower."
But Zoe felt a surge of rebellious defiance. She clenched her fists and asked calmly, "Do you have the pill?"
Hearing this, Simon looked at her with an unreadable expression, practically playing dumb while knowing the answer. "What pill?"
"The morning-after pill." Zoe did not bother looking at his expression. Done pretending, she threw away her shy reserve. "You didn’t wear a condom. Don’t you know how much you left inside me? If I don’t take the pill, there will be trouble."
"Trouble?" Simon half-squinted, a chilling coldness creeping into his eyes. "What do you mean by trouble? Does having my child terrify you so much that you would use a word like that to describe it?"
Zoe did not have the energy to quarrel with him, but she felt deeply wronged. "I’m the one who’s terrified? Isn’t this something you should be worrying about? Are you telling me you’re actually looking forward to me having your child?"
She questioned him sharply.
Simon stared at her profoundly but offered no explanation.
But Zoe had already opened the floodgates of her grievances. Her throat hitched as she said, "That time, you personally handed me the pill. I still have some dignity left. Since then, I haven’t needed you to personally remind or question me. I would never dare to annoy Mr. Hawthorne."
"Did I ever say out loud that you couldn’t have a child?"
Simon finally spoke. The deep crease between his brows tugged at the wound on his brow bone—the one inflicted by the old master. With that injury, his excessively refined features somehow looked even more bewitching.
Zoe couldn’t help but glance at the wound, forcefully suppressing her curiosity. She guessed that Simon’s unusual emotional state today was highly likely related to that injury. But what mattered more right now was...
"You literally fed me the pill yourself. Do you even need to say it?"
"That wasn’t a morning-after pill!"
Zoe was stunned for a moment, feeling as though a long-held conviction had just been shattered. She remained silent for a long time, struggling to tell if he was telling the truth.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
A servant knocked on the door, interrupting the tense, explosive atmosphere just in time.
Only then did Simon look over. "Come in."
The servant pushed the door open and walked in, carrying a bowl of soup. But the scent wafting from it instantly told Zoe what was inside. She instinctively frowned in resistance.
The servant approached and finally said, "This is medicine sent over from the Hawthorne Residence. The Old Madam gave strict instructions for the Young Madam to drink it as soon as she returned. Mr. Hawthorne, this..."
The servant looked rather conflicted. After all, this was an order from the Hawthorne Residence; they couldn’t afford to disobey.
Simon gave a faint reply. "Leave it."
Looking relieved, the servant placed it on the nightstand, turned, and left, sensibly closing the door behind them. Before leaving, the servant cast a complex look at Zoe.
Zoe didn’t miss the look in their eyes. To her surprise, she read a hint of pity and sympathy in it—as if there was something they hesitated to say. This made her heart suddenly tighten in an inexplicable panic. They wondered if something had happened during the two days she was gone.
While she was distracted, Simon had already uncovered the bowl of medicine. "Drink it."
Zoe’s expression instantly turned awful. "You know perfectly well what kind of medicine this is!"
"And?" Simon looked at her quietly. Without the obstruction of his glasses, his eyes appeared coldly bewitching. "Evie, it’s not like we can’t have a child."