Simon Hawthorne agreed.
This was almost exactly what Zoe Lancaster had expected. An unprecedented sense of relief washed over her, accompanied by an unspeakable pain. Zoe knew her feelings at this moment were complicated. Although finally severing ties with the man she had loved for so many years felt as agonizing as having her heart carved out, she was about to be free. She could finally be liberated.
She rose gently, careful not to disturb Crystal Hayes beside her, and walked out to the balcony. The morning dew was damp, and the biting chill made her break out in goosebumps. She replied to Simon’s WhatsApp message.
[I need to review the signed divorce agreement first. Have someone deliver it to Lance Langley’s front desk. I’ll pick it up when I have time.]
Since Simon couldn’t track her whereabouts right now, she had to be cautious, cautious, and even more cautious for the sake of her child. This matter had to be absolutely foolproof.
She understood Simon’s personality to some extent. By breaking their agreement first, she was essentially slapping him in the face. Even if he truly agreed to the divorce, he might seize the opportunity to make things difficult for her. She no longer wanted to deal with him; she only wanted to resolve this as quickly as possible and leave.
She thought he wouldn’t reply. Unexpectedly, he called her directly.
Simon actually hadn’t slept all night!
Zoe hesitated for a moment before answering.
The man’s voice was slightly hoarse, as deep and freezing as winter ice. Even through the phone, she could almost feel his silent, cold mockery. "Where are you?"
He really hadn’t expected Zoe to be so resolute this time. She had driven to a large commercial district to confuse his men, parked the car there, and slipped away in disguise. The foot traffic there was massive, with an endless stream of taxis. Trying to continue tracking her would take quite some time.
Zoe’s throat choked up. Suppressing her emotions, she said, "You don’t need to know that. You said you’ve already signed it. Send the agreement to Lance Langley’s front desk. Once I’ve reviewed it, I’ll naturally go to the Civil Affairs Bureau with you. We don’t need to waste time."
Simon let out an ambiguous chuckle that concealed terrifying anger. "Zoe Lancaster, you’ve grown quite bold now, haven’t you? Giving me orders?"
She clenched her fingers, her exhaustion overflowing. "If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging—"
"I’ll only say this once. Meet me at the entrance of the Civil Affairs Bureau at ten o’clock today. You only get one chance. If you don’t show up, don’t even think about getting a divorce."
The man’s tone was indifferent and as cold as frost, leaving no room for negotiation.
Zoe’s expression instantly changed, her shoulders trembling slightly in disbelief. "Simon Hawthorne, what are you trying to do!"
It was very quiet on Simon’s end—so quiet that the sound of him flicking a lighter clearly reached her ears. Perhaps from drawing the cigarette smoke into his lungs, his voice grew even hoarser towards the end, laced with mockery and sarcasm. "You probably don’t want to implicate innocent people in our affairs. Take Crystal Hayes, for example. Her family is still paying off debts, and she’s currently working at a music training center. If she loses this job, how will she survive?"
Zoe’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Simon’s unhurried voice remained aristocratically cruel. "And your sister, Autumn Linden. Who knows if she’ll be able to graduate smoothly?"
"Simon Hawthorne! You bastard!"
Zoe trembled uncontrollably. She didn’t know if it was the biting chill of the early morning or if his ruthlessness terrified her.
Listening to her voice, which had grown hoarse with anger, Simon remained silent for a few seconds. He could guess exactly what kind of expression Zoe was wearing. He stubbed out his cigarette, then gripped the counterfeit lighter she had given him, his emotions entirely unreadable.
"I’ve never been a good person, Zoe. Don’t try to appeal to a capitalist’s conscience. The man you fell for was always a ruthless bastard who would stoop to any means necessary. When you clung to me back then, wasn’t it precisely because you were drawn to this ruthless, bloodless power in my hands?
"Evie, don’t oppose me. Negotiating with me is absurd. I don’t want to use these methods on you."
He said this so casually, sounding like genuine persuasion, as if he were doing it for her own good. Yet the underlying tone remained suffocating and lethal.
Zoe hung up the phone, her breathing erratic. The hand holding the phone trembled incessantly, unable to suppress the sorrow and panic in her heart. She had thought that submitting the divorce agreement was fulfilling his wishes, but he still wouldn’t let her off easily. He refused to allow her to challenge his authority.
She had almost forgotten—he was Simon Hawthorne.
Cold-blooded ruthlessness was his true nature. With his cruel methods and absolute control over everything, how could he easily let anyone walk all over him?
She squeezed her eyes shut fiercely. Today, she had no choice but to meet him. She only hoped that no matter how difficult he made things for her, they would eventually get their divorce certificate.
At six o’clock, Crystal Hayes got up to catch the subway to work.
Before leaving, she specially made breakfast and kept it warm for Zoe, afraid that her friend wouldn’t know how to take care of herself. Watching the woman busy herself back and forth, Zoe felt terrible, an unbearable sourness rising in her chest. How could her heart not ache for her? When Crystal’s family suffered a tragedy, she was only a teenager. A major accident had occurred at her father’s construction site. To resolve the issue at the lowest possible cost, the developers ruthlessly scapegoated her father, pushing him forward as the responsible party. He was sentenced to thirty years in prison. From then on, their family shouldered over ten million in debt, nearly crushing the mother and daughter.
And now, she was being secretly manipulated by a devil like Simon, who could crush the stability she had worked so hard to build at any moment.
How could Zoe bear it?
Only after Crystal left did Zoe finish freshening up and sit down at the narrow dining table. Crystal had made her a bowl of noodles and boiled two poached eggs. Knowing Zoe had a poor appetite, she had deliberately made the meal light and appetizing. Holding her chopsticks, Zoe lowered her eyes and ate bite by bite, pea-sized tears splashing onto the table. Even though her stomach felt uncomfortable, she forced herself to finish the bowl of clear broth noodles, unwilling to waste Crystal’s thoughtful gesture.
Then, she tidied up the apartment and headed out.
It was 8:40 AM.
It had rained the night before, and the sky was heavily overcast today. The roadside pine and cypress trees had been washed to a vibrant emerald green. The asphalt road was slick with moisture, and the air hung heavy with the damp, earthy scent of mud.
Getting into the car, Zoe dialed an overseas number and said, weary yet resolute, "I need you to do me a favor..."
*
Simon had sent her the location of the Civil Affairs Bureau. It took nearly an hour to get there from Crystal’s place. Today was Friday, so the bureau was actually quite crowded.
When Zoe arrived, she almost immediately spotted the only globally limited-edition Maybach parked by the curb. She instinctively stroked her still-flat lower abdomen. She never would have had the courage to do all of this in the past. Perhaps she should thank this child for allowing her to be herself again.
Taking a deep breath, she walked over to it and knocked on the car window. Her gaze swept thoughtfully around her surroundings.
The window rolled down, revealing the man’s upper body.
He sat with his legs crossed, wearing a double-breasted black overcoat today. His black hair was styled with exquisite, aristocratic elegance. The gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose added a touch of refined, ascetic restraint to his overly aloof aura, while the faint mole under his eye was seductively bewitching. He possessed looks that were a hundred times more dazzling than any male celebrity, yet his heart was as cold as ice.
"Let’s go inside. We need to take a number." Zoe’s gaze was calm and full of resolve.
Simon cast a faint, sidelong glance at her. The woman probably hadn’t slept well; her face was slightly pale. Surprisingly, she wasn’t wearing any makeup today. In the past, she was always impeccably made up with a full face of cosmetics, but today she had apparently changed her ways.
Even so, her bare face was still blindingly beautiful.
Shane Shaw was driving today. He got out and opened the rear door for Simon, casting a rather meaningful glance at Zoe.