Zoe Lancaster was startled. She hadn’t expected Simon Hawthorne to find out so quickly. Inevitably feeling a twinge of guilt, she asked, "How did you know..."
Simon leaned back against the sofa carelessly. His languid, unhurried posture made even his earlier gloominess seem captivating. Yet, the words that left his lips were lethally cold and venomous. "Should I say you’re insatiably greedy? Playing the saint by refusing my gifts, while secretly rushing to sell them for cash—"
He paused at the end of his sentence, a faint trace of mockery in his tone. "And stringing along another man on the side to leave yourself an out?"
Their eyes met.
Zoe’s breath caught. Her mind was still reeling, but her senses were a step faster, registering a spreading, insidious dull ache. She was already in a bad mood today, and hearing his definitive judgment brought a surge of grievance. Her words grew thorny. "You have a beloved woman, and you’re just waiting to divorce me so you can fly off together. Do you still expect me to keep myself pure and remain absolutely loyal to you?"
Wasn’t he just the pot calling the kettle black! He was the one who had disgusted her by giving her the exact same necklace as his mistress. And now he wouldn’t even allow her to get rid of the cursed thing?
Simon’s dark, heavy gaze locked onto her. Cold, ruthless words spilled from his pale lips. "Have you?"
The room became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. The dead silence was terrifying. An unknown amount of time passed before Zoe finally broke the silence.
"And what if I haven’t? Would you care?"
His words had already pierced her full of holes, yet she masochistically insisted on an answer, viciously rubbing salt into her own wounds.
This time, Simon stood up. His oppressive height nearly blocked out the light. He stood before her and slowly leaned down, his long, slender fingers gripping her chin. His thumb rubbed against her pale lips in a way that felt both ambiguous and as sharp as a blade. His deep, unfathomable eyes were chilling enough to flay a person alive.
"If you truly haven’t, the only one you’re ruining is yourself. What does it have to do with me?"
Zoe could barely maintain her composure.
He released her. Striding toward the door, he threw back a cold remark. "I’m not in the habit of taking back gifts. If you don’t want it, you can throw it away for all I care."
Just as the door was about to close, Zoe tightly clenched her fists and retorted, "Right, you’re so generous! Giving the exact same thing to two women at the same time really saves you time and effort!"
The door shut completely. They had parted on bad terms.
Zoe lost all her strength and slumped against the sofa. She couldn’t understand Simon. What was his purpose in coming here? Did he care? Or was he merely here to mock her?
Zoe squeezed her eyes shut. When you love someone, even the slightest rustle of grass in the wind is enough to send you into a panic. A single, casually tossed sentence could puncture her like a sieve. Perhaps he wasn’t wrong. He just... didn’t care about her.
The sky grew increasingly overcast.
Once in the car, Simon frowned. Zoe’s final words echoed in his mind. Giving the exact same thing to two women at the same time?
"Shane," Simon said, massaging his temples. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he inexplicably recalled Zoe’s stubborn refusal to back down just moments ago. Even with red eyes, she had been so defiant. Pursing his lips, he asked in a slightly cooler tone, "That jewelry set you picked up the other day—how many sets are left?"
There were only ten sets limited globally. Their whereabouts should be perfectly clear.
Shane immediately pulled out his phone. "One moment, let me ask."
Before long, Shane had the results. "Aside from the set given to the Madam, six sets were sold in Norgard. Two of the remaining sets were bought by Mrs. Miller of the Miller family in Seaport and by Sean Sheffield’s mother. The last set was acquired by Editor-in-Chief Sullivan of Bali Magazine, who lent it to Miss Joyce for a photoshoot a couple of days ago."
Simon finally looked up. "Stella Joyce?"
Shane nodded and pulled up Stella’s X account. "Yes, Miss Joyce posted about this necklace."
Simon glanced at the phone screen. Stella’s caption was indeed misleading; anyone who didn’t know better would genuinely think the necklace belonged to her. So, was that what Zoe had misunderstood?
Observing his boss’s expression, Shane asked, "Mr. Hawthorne, is there a problem? Or does the Madam not like the necklace?"
"She doesn’t like it." Simon lowered his gaze. As for the reason why she didn’t like it...
He was somewhat surprised. Was Zoe serious? She seemed to care about this much more than he had anticipated. Did she really care about him that much? Truth be told, he was more inclined to be skeptical.
After a while, Simon finally spoke. "Communicate with Editor-in-Chief Sullivan at Bali Magazine. Tell her to avoid lending it out if possible. And as for Stella..." He paused. "Take down the magazine pages featuring her wearing that necklace."
Shane looked faintly surprised. This was Stella, after all. Mr. Hawthorne had always indulged her. But now... What exactly was his reason for doing this?
After a moment of thought, Shane asked, "Then, should we explain this to the Madam?" He wasn’t stupid; he could guess that Mr. Hawthorne looking into this matter was bound to be tied to those possibilities.
Simon slowly opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the building receding in the rearview mirror. For some reason, the scene at The Ambrosia Pavilion earlier today crossed his mind. After a moment, he said coldly, "There’s no need."
BEEP BEEP BEEP—
A busy tone sounded.
Staring at the disconnected call, Stella couldn’t hide her displeasure. "Why isn’t Simon answering the phone?"
Seeing this, her assistant quickly comforted her, "Mr. Hawthorne is very busy with work, after all. He’ll call you back as soon as he sees it."
Stella remained unenthused. Tossing her phone aside, she threw a minor tantrum. "I thought returning to the country would give me more chances to spend time with him. Could it be because of his wife?"
Terrified of saying the wrong thing, the assistant replied, "How could that be? Mr. Hawthorne doesn’t take that woman seriously at all. She could never compare to you..."
Stella frowned. "You’re right. Who does that woman think she is?"
She picked up her phone again, planning to call Linden, when she saw her manager hurrying in with a grave expression.
"What’s wrong? Why the long face?" Stella paused.
The manager said in a harsh tone, "I don’t know why, but Bali Magazine has pulled your inside pages! They said they’re doing a reshoot and won’t be using that look for the publication!"
Stella’s expression changed slightly. "Why?! That diamond jewelry set was my favorite!"
The manager frowned. "It was Editor-in-Chief Sullivan’s decision. What’s more, she’s requested that you delete the post you made on X about the diamond necklace."
Stella slammed her hand on the table and stood up, her face darkening with anger. "She’s the one who agreed to lend it to me in the first place! What does she mean by going back on her word now? Give me the phone. I’m going to ask her!"
Despite her burning anger, Sullivan was, after all, a major editor-in-chief in the fashion industry. Once the call connected, Stella softened her tone and asked politely, "Sullivan, why so sudden? Is there a problem?"
Curious about the gossip behind it all, Editor-in-Chief Sullivan didn’t bother hiding the truth. "It was Boss Hawthorne’s decision over at the Hawthorne Group. Why don’t you ask him?"
Stella’s expression froze, her composure completely slipping away. It was entirely unexpected.