He had known Zoe Lancaster for so many years, but when had he ever seen her look so heartbroken? She seemed completely shattered—raw, bleeding, and unable to hold back even a fraction of her pain.
Zoe was tenacious, possessing an incredibly strong will to live. She had never shown weakness in the face of adversity. The girl who was once so spirited and full of life was now covered in scars, unable to save herself.
Jules Yates’s expression darkened by the second. Grinding his back teeth, he roughly wiped the tears from Zoe’s cheeks. "We’re going to find him right now! Get a divorce! You can’t delay this for another day!"
He knew Zoe put way too much pressure on herself. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t help take care of her aunt. Even if the medical bills amounted to tens of millions, he could afford it. Yet Zoe flat-out refused to accept his help. She was simply too proud sometimes, never wanting to be a burden to anyone.
Zoe shook her head and wiped the remaining tears from the corners of her eyes. "Don’t be impulsive. I’m fine now. Acting rashly won’t solve anything; it’ll only cause more trouble. I want to go home."
Jules knitted his brows. "Back to my place?"
"Back to Somerset Gardens," Zoe replied. "Heartbreaker was taken there, and I’m worried about him."
If it weren’t for Heartbreaker, she truly wouldn’t want to go back. Nowadays, the feeling of living under someone else’s roof was growing heavier. That wasn’t her home. It was her cage.
Jules didn’t say another word. Face clouded with gloom, he simply stepped on the gas pedal, not forgetting to hand her a couple of tissues to wipe her face. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the drive.
Upon arriving at Somerset Gardens, Jules stared at the property and gave a sarcastic smirk. "Wow, this place doesn’t come cheap. You can’t get it for less than a few hundred million. The marital home sure is grand—too bad everything else about this arrangement is purely animalistic."
Zoe knew that Jules, her ironclad best friend, was currently fighting the urge to murder the cheating couple. This wealthy young master had never suffered such indignity in his life, yet because of her, he had to swallow his anger.
Seeing Zoe return, the servants hurriedly came out to greet her. "Madam, you’re back so early. Have you had breakfast? We can prepare it right now."
Zoe didn’t have much of an appetite. She shook her head and called out toward the interior of the house, "Heartbreaker?"
Soon, a small dog dashed out from the backyard, quickly throwing itself into her arms. It wagged its tail and WHINED affectionately, almost as if demanding to know where she had been all these days.
Seeing that Heartbreaker had been well-fed, boasting a beautiful coat and a plump body, her mood eased slightly. She rubbed the little guy’s head. "How did you get so fat again? If this keeps up, you’ll need to go on a diet."
Jules squatted down and looked at the dog. "You take great care of whatever you raise, yet you neglect yourself. Look at this fat dog, he’s about to burst."
Heartbreaker seemed to understand, shooting him a glare with his big, round eyes.
Hearing this, a nearby servant quickly smiled and chimed in, "Mr. Hawthorne said we needed to look after him with meticulous care, since he’s Madam’s darling. All his food and supplies are imported. Even Miss Joyce said he should lose..."
The servant’s voice abruptly trailed off. She seemed to realize she had misspoken.
Zoe looked at her calmly. "When did Peyton Joyce come here?"
The servant’s eyes darted around awkwardly, unconsciously revealing a bizarre evasiveness, as if she had spilled a forbidden secret. "No... it was just that time when you left, Madam."
Her leaving with an elite man had shocked the staff for days. But...
"Did anything else happen that day?" Zoe asked casually.
Just then, another servant walked over and hurriedly interjected, "No, no, you’re overthinking it, Madam. Everything is perfectly fine at home."
Zoe didn’t press further. She watched as the newly arrived servant pulled the other woman away, saying, "We haven’t finished up in the kitchen. Just call us if you need anything, Madam." The two hurried off.
Staring in their direction, Zoe felt as if her heart had been stuffed with cotton, leaving her strangely numb and ungrounded. Suddenly, she shoved Heartbreaker into Jules’s arms. "I’m going to grab a bottle of water. What do you want to drink?"
Jules looked disgusted. "I’m not in the mood. I’m already full of rage."
Zoe didn’t insist and headed straight for the kitchen.
The kitchen was a separate, massive room large enough to accommodate over a dozen people at once. At this hour, the servants were cleaning up and preparing fresh fruit.
Just as she reached the door, Zoe deliberately lightened her footsteps. At the same time, low voices drifted out from inside.
"Don’t let it slip. If Madam finds out that right after she left that day, Miss Joyce went up to Mr. Hawthorne’s room and stayed in there for so long... They even forbade us from going up to disturb them. There’s obviously something going on."
Zoe’s heart plummeted. Her ears began to ring.
"I just spoke too fast. I just feel so bad for Madam. She’s always so kind to us and never puts on airs, only to have another woman steal her husband. Mr. Hawthorne was in a bad mood and had been drinking that day. Men are always the weakest when they’ve had a few drinks—especially when they’re faced with the woman they once loved."
"Sigh, it’s a toxic affair. And for it to happen right in the marital bed... It just disgusts me."
Zoe could barely hear the rest of their conversation. She just felt her body turning colder by the inch, as if her blood had frozen solid. Every breath she took brought a sharp, stabbing pain. A fine layer of cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and she began to tremble uncontrollably.
No wonder... No wonder the servants had looked at her so strangely the day Simon Hawthorne brought her back from Jules’s house. It was because they pitied her. The very bed she had lain on that day might have been used by Simon and Peyton Joyce...
"URGH..." A churning wave of nausea washed over her. Deathly pale, Zoe covered her mouth and turned around, only to see Jules standing right behind her, still holding Heartbreaker. His face was terrifyingly dark.
Clearly, he had heard it all, too.
Unable to care about anything else, Zoe kept her lips covered and dashed for the nearest bathroom.
The commotion outside was loud. The servants in the kitchen turned pale and rushed out. They caught sight of Zoe’s retreating back and Jules standing there with a livid expression. The two women shivered all over, looking as if they had been struck by lightning.
They were doomed—they had really messed up this time!
Zoe slumped over the toilet bowl and dry-heaved for a while. Because she had been rushed off her feet in Seacliff, she hadn’t eaten anything since noon. After everything that had happened since, her stomach was completely empty. Even though the intense nausea made her gag, she couldn’t throw anything up. She could only endure the painful stomach spasms that left her drenched in cold sweat.
Outside, a Maybach pulled to a halt. Simon Hawthorne stepped out of the car, followed closely by Linden, who had a long black overcoat draped over his arm.
Upon entering the house, the man swept his gaze across the room and asked in a slightly hoarse voice, "Where is Madam?"
He had received word that Zoe had returned to the capital and rushed back straight from the hospital.
Before the servant cleaning the living room could answer, Simon saw a man step out from behind a decorative screen. The man was holding Heartbreaker in his arms. Even without makeup or styling, he was exquisitely eye-catching—living up to his reputation as the most handsome Best Actor among all the box-office juggernauts.
Seeing Jules Yates, Simon’s dark eyes narrowed slightly.
Jules set Heartbreaker down on the floor. With a completely normal tone, he remarked, "Well, well. Mr. Hawthorne, it’s been a while, but you look a bit haggard."
Simon carelessly unfastened his sapphire cufflinks, his tone flat. "What are you doing here?"
Jules strolled over and stood directly in front of him. Tilting his head with a smirk, he replied, "Why, to add some color to Mr. Hawthorne’s day, of course."
Almost the moment the words left his mouth, Jules’s eyes flashed with ruthless malice. Moving with unbelievable speed, he threw a vicious punch right at the corner of Simon’s mouth. He didn’t hold back. Simon stumbled back two steps, his head whipped to the side by the sheer force. His attractive lips immediately swelled with crimson blood.
Bright red blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, yet behind his glasses, his dark pupils remained as still as stagnant water, utterly devoid of emotion.