Peyton Joyce couldn’t suppress her violently beating heart. Hearing the doorbell, she turned around as fast as she could and rushed back into the bedroom to change into a new turtleneck sweater, completely covering the marks Ryan Hawthorne had left on her neck.
Only then did she take a deep breath and go to open the door.
Simon Hawthorne had drank too much and lost all consciousness, allowing Linden to help him upstairs. Linden looked at Peyton somewhat awkwardly. "Miss Joyce, sorry to intrude."
He found the situation bizarre himself.
To think Mrs. Hawthorne had directly told him to bring Mr. Hawthorne over. Mr. Hawthorne was completely out of it, yet he kept murmuring Peyton’s name. Was it true... that he really cared for Miss Joyce?
He wasn’t entirely sure, but Mrs. Hawthorne had explicitly chased them out. Caught in a dilemma, he had no other choice.
Peyton looked at Simon, her heart warming. She quickly replied, "Not at all! Help me get him to the bedroom, and I’ll wipe him down."
Although he was dead drunk, she knew that if Simon didn’t have her in his heart, Linden wouldn’t have brought him here. The thought filled her heart with honey.
Linden nodded, supporting Simon inside. After carefully helping the man lay down on the bed, Simon frowned slightly but did not wake up.
Peyton immediately sat on the edge of the bed and affectionately held Simon’s hand. Her heart fluttered ceaselessly; she cherished this rare chance to be so close to him.
"Thank you for your trouble, Secretary Linden. Hurry back and rest. I can handle things from here," she smiled gently at him.
Linden cast a hesitant glance at the man on the bed. He felt somewhat uneasy, wondering if anything would go wrong.
"I’ll take my leave then."
After seeing Linden out, Peyton turned off the main lights in the room. Leaving only the small bedside lamp on, she looked closely at the man’s impeccable features. Infatuated, she gently traced her fingers over his eyes, down his nose, and finally rested them on his thin, crimson lips.
"Simon?" she called out softly.
Simon didn’t react.
However, the look in her eyes grew increasingly fervent. "Let me help you, okay? I’ll help you take your clothes off."
Though phrasing it as a question, her actions held no hesitation. She leaned in and began unbuttoning his shirt.
One button, two, three...
When his exceptionally well-proportioned and attractive abdominal muscles were finally exposed, her breathing grew uncontrollably ragged. Her gaze landed on his suit pants belt. Pinching the buckle gently, a sharp CLICK sounded in the quiet room. A blush crept up her cheeks, and the desire in her eyes became even deeper and more urgent.
Just as she was about to pull the belt out, her hand was caught off guard and firmly gripped, stopping her right in her tracks.
Her heart skipped a beat. Looking up, she met a pair of eyes that were exceptionally icy in the dim light.
Peyton instantly felt as if she had been plunged into an ice cellar.
Simon gripped her tightly. The haze of his drunkenness meant his lucidity wouldn’t last long. His voice was incredibly hoarse. "Don’t touch me!"
Frowning fiercely, he grabbed her hand and threw it off. But having drank too much today, his limbs lacked strength. The entire room was spinning, and everything before him was blurry. His mind was a chaotic mess, yet an intensely strong conviction kept him grounded.
He didn’t want this...
His head was splitting, making it impossible to string together a coherent thought, but his subconscious was outright rejecting her. After throwing her hand away, he let out a heavy pant, rolled onto his side, and fell still once more.
Peyton, however, felt as if she had been ruthlessly slapped across the face. Her pride was utterly shattered. How could she not feel his resistance?
He was clearly dead to the world in his drunken stupor, yet Simon still wouldn’t give her a chance!
Her face began to pale as she sat in silence for a long time.
A man’s base instincts meant he usually struggled to control his lower half when faced with lust, always drawing a clear line between sex and love. But even after getting completely wasted, at the moment his willpower was at its weakest, he could still put a stop to it all!
Was his self-control really that astonishing?
Or... was his heart so full of that woman, that... he refused to accept anyone else?
This thought made her chest heave violently. An unspeakable panic seized her heart, almost suffocating her.
Impossible! How could Simon ever fall in love with a woman like Zoe Lancaster!
Peyton clenched her fists tightly, letting her fingernails dig into her palms until they nearly drew blood. She couldn’t feel the slightest bit of pain. Gazing at the man on the bed, her usually gentle eyes seemed tainted with extreme obsession.
She would absolutely never allow any other woman to take her place.
Today’s opportunity was rare. Over all these years, he had always been far too protective of her, and they had barely ever been this intimate. If she didn’t take full advantage of this...
At that thought, she raised her hands and undid the buttons of her sweater one by one. Revealing her graceful curves, she climbed onto the bed and pressed her entire body against his chest.
Her voice was soft, yet unhinged. "Simon...
"I will never hand you over to someone else..."
At the Hawthorne Residence.
It was 9:00 a.m.
Ken Lowell accompanied the Old Madam as she finished her Buddhist prayers, and the two walked out of the prayer hall together.
Many things, big and small, had happened in the Hawthorne family recently. She had tested Simon’s attitude, and since her son had no intention of informing the two elders about Zoe’s pregnancy, she hadn’t brought it up either.
She really couldn’t understand what on earth her son was thinking. If the accusations from that day about Zoe cheating during their marriage were true, with Simon’s usual arrogance and pride, there was no way he wouldn’t divorce her!
Mulling it over, she still felt uneasy, so she asked, "How is Peyton settling in?"
She planned to give Peyton a heads-up so she could pretend not to know about Zoe’s pregnancy for now.
Just as she asked, she saw Peyton’s personal assistant walking out of the courtyard where Peyton had stayed.
She frowned. "Young lady, hold on a moment."
The assistant stopped in her tracks. Seeing her, she greeted respectfully, "Good morning, Madam."
Ken Lowell looked her up and down. "Why are you here? Where’s Peyton?"
The assistant’s expression turned evasive. "Peyton has some matters to attend to and can’t come back... so she asked me to come grab some personal items for her."
"Why are you stammering? Did she suffer some sort of grievance outside?" How could Ken Lowell not see through the little assistant’s abnormal behavior? She questioned her with a frown.
The assistant immediately gritted her teeth and said helplessly, "It’s... Mr. Hawthorne.
"Mr. Hawthorne got drunk last night and went to Peyton’s place..."
She didn’t finish her sentence.
But how could Ken Lowell not guess the possibilities! Her expression changed drastically.
"I’ll go take a look!"
Peyton lived right next to The Imperial Residence. Ken Lowell had been there once before, and with the assistant tagging along and knowing the passcode, they entered the house smoothly. The living room curtains were still drawn, making it obvious that the occupants hadn’t woken up yet.
Ken Lowell’s heart pounded wildly as she rushed straight for the inner bedroom.
Until she pushed the door open.
The two people on the bed were snuggled up against each other.
The bodies exposed outside the covers were bare. As someone who had been through it all, how could she not know what had happened!
Ken Lowell suddenly felt her chest tighten. "How absurd!"
Following her furious shout, Peyton jolted awake as if startled. Seeing her, she hurriedly wrapped herself tightly in the blanket, tears instantly streaming down her face. "Auntie... I..."
Simon was roused by the noise. He opened his eyes with a frown. His throat felt parched, and his stomach was churning even more uncomfortably. Seeing Ken Lowell, his brow furrowed deeper, his dark eyes cold and somber. "Mom?"
Very quickly, he realized something was wrong.
The woman beside him was covering her chest, sobbing quietly.
Without a single stitch of clothing on!