Zoe Lancaster had no choice but to sit in the lounge and bide her time. She had called Linden on the way, but he hadn’t answered.
The situation couldn’t be any clearer. As Simon Hawthorne’s chief secretary, Linden kept his phone off silent twenty-four hours a day. He was always reachable. For him to ignore her call now could only mean one thing: Simon had ordered it. He knew perfectly well she was downstairs.
Zoe clenched her hands, her knuckles turning white bit by bit.
She waited for nearly an hour. Finally, Linden called back. "Mrs. Hawthorne, Mr. Hawthorne has asked you to come up."
Zoe’s lips curled into a mocking smile. Who did he think he was, putting on such ridiculous airs?
This time, her path was completely unobstructed. She made her way to the CEO’s office, where Linden came forward to greet her. "Miss Lancaster, Mr. Hawthorne is in a meeting. Please wait for him in his office for a moment."
Zoe nodded.
Simon’s office overlooked the entire bustling CBD. It was as if all the glitz and glamour of the city were trampled beneath his feet, the livelihoods of countless people held firmly in the palm of his hand. In this world, power and wealth truly allowed a person to do whatever they pleased. Surveying the minimalist yet exquisitely furnished space, she slowly walked over to the desk, where a cup of cold coffee had been left behind.
The memory of the first time she saw Stella Joyce suddenly flashed through her mind. Stella had been sitting right by his side, free to do whatever she pleased. Yet today, when Zoe wanted to see him, she was met with deliberate obstacles. The stark contrast made her eyelids twitch. He really was a blind, arrogant bastard!
She was just about to sit back down on the sofa when she caught sight of a slightly ajar drawer in the lower section of the desk. Inside sat a box that looked vaguely familiar. Staring at it, a sudden urge to investigate washed over her. Swallowing hard, she reached out to pull it open.
"What are you doing?"
A hand clamped around her wrist, pulling her back forcefully. Zoe stumbled into a firm chest that radiated the cool scent of cedarwood. She looked up in surprise to find Simon staring down at her with a cold, detached expression.
"I..."
"You were in such a rush to see me. What is it?" He didn’t release her wrist, but used his free hand to shove the drawer shut, cutting off any chance for her to pry further.
Zoe shoved him away. "You know exactly why I’m here." Otherwise, he wouldn’t have deliberately made her wait for nearly an hour.
Seeing her guarded expression, the corners of Simon’s lips curled upwards. "You’re getting played for a fool and still thanking the person doing it. Is a two-faced snake really worth you pouring your heart out? Zoe, where is your brain?"
Zoe didn’t understand what he meant, but she heard the biting sarcasm loud and clear. Pushed to the edge by the contraceptive pills, Preston Quincy, and everything else, her temper finally flared. "You’re right, my judgment has always been terrible! After all, I misjudged you too, didn’t I, Mr. Hawthorne?"
The gaze behind Simon’s glasses darkened, tearing away his facade of a refined gentleman. He trapped her between his arms and the edge of the desk, gripping her chin to force her to look at him. "Are you sure you want to speak to me like that, Zoe?"
A chill ran down Zoe’s spine, and her fiery temper instantly fizzled out. She had to admit she didn’t have the leverage to go toe-to-toe with him. She had no choice but to rein herself in.
"Then tell me, why did you fire my intern?" she asked, too afraid to move. His body heat was searingly hot, a clear sign that he was genuinely furious. "To punish me? Since when does Mr. Hawthorne overextend his reach like this? Making such a huge fuss over a nameless, low-level employee?"
"See for yourself!" Simon snatched a document from the desk and shoved it into her hands.
Zoe flipped it open. Within moments, the color drained from her face. A cold draft seemed to crawl up the back of her neck, like an invisible, unguarded blade pressing against her skin, ready to strike her down at any moment.
A quiet scoff escaped Simon’s lips. His eyes were pitch-black, as freezing as ice water. "Are you satisfied with this result? You have no idea how sinister people can be. The very person you’re trying to protect secretly wishes you were dead. Welcome to the real world." He paused, adding a barely audible sneer, "Your taste in friends is just as abysmal as your taste in men. Do you need me to prescribe you a pair of glasses for that too?"
First Summer Thorne, then Preston Quincy. Hadn’t they both let her down?
Zoe stared at the printed social media comments in the document, her hands and feet turning ice-cold.
"A whore who sleeps her way to the top."
"She really thinks her pretty face counts as actual talent."
"Plenty of people are just waiting to watch her make a fool of herself."
She couldn’t believe that the intern she had poured her heart into mentoring viewed her like this behind her back. When Stella deliberately released that misleading video, it was Summer’s burner account that had leaked all of Zoe’s personal information online, which in turn drew the vicious attacks from Stella’s rabid fans. Summer’s phone call that day hadn’t been out of concern; she was just calling to enjoy the show.
Zoe suddenly felt utterly humiliated. She had stormed in here demanding answers, only to have reality slap her hard in the face. Even if Simon had technically done her a favor by getting rid of an ungrateful traitor...
"What’s the point of dealing with Summer?" Zoe looked directly into Simon’s eyes, even though the darkness in them stung her heart. "She’s just a narrow-minded, petty person who will never amount to anything. Shouldn’t you be dealing with the real mastermind behind all this?"
Getting rid of Summer was just a show—a low-cost scapegoat meant to pacify her. She let out a soft, bitter laugh. "If you can’t bear to punish the woman you actually care about, you don’t need to take a roundabout route and fire a lowly intern just to brush me off. I’m not a na?ve little girl, Mr. Hawthorne. I don’t buy it."
She slammed the document down, shoved him away, and turned to leave. A deep sense of powerlessness dragged her under, making it hard to breathe.
Simon watched her figure disappear from view, his brows furrowed in a hard, cold line. Out of sheer frustration, he raised a hand, his slender fingers loosening his tie. Sinking back into his chair, his gaze slowly landed on the drawer Zoe had almost opened. He pulled it open again. Inside was the pink diamond necklace she had returned to him last time, telling him to give it to Stella.
His mind drifted for a moment. Then, his phone buzzed. He answered it, his voice freezing cold. "What is it?"
"Wow, did I offend you or something?" Sean Sheffield replied, sounding rather hurt. "Why is your tone so terrifying? What’s with the hostility?"
Simon took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It’s working hours. Do you think I have as much free time as you do?"
Sean let out a frivolous chuckle. "Right, I’ve got free time. That’s exactly why I had the time to airfreight that special medicine from Britain overnight for you. Where’s the gratitude?"
An emotional storm finally surged in Simon’s eyes. His entire demeanor grew even more chilling, as if he had just been pulled from a freezing lake.
Sean was still rambling on. "So, how is it? Is the medicine incredibly effective or what?"
The medicine was designed to neutralize most chemical toxins in the body and protect the organs. Simon had demanded it urgently a few days ago. Having the right connections, Sean was pressured into having it shipped back from overseas overnight, expending a massive amount of manpower and resources in the process.
"Who was it for anyway? Did they take it?"
Simon lowered his eyelashes, his thin, reddish lips parting slightly. "I smashed it."
"..." Sean went silent. "Are you kidding me?" he blurted out. "That pill cost hundreds of thousands! I used a private jet and applied for an overnight flight route. You just threw away nearly two million, and you’re telling me you smashed it?!"
Was Simon out of his mind?!
Too lazy to explain, Simon simply hung up the phone. He leaned back in his chair, his cold expression masking an unshakable gloom.
Meanwhile, Zoe walked out of the office with a dark expression. She headed to the elevator banks and waited, staring down at the tips of her shoes.
DING. The elevator doors slid open.
Without looking up, Zoe stepped forward to enter, but a woman stepped out, bringing a wave of strong perfume with her. The woman suddenly grabbed Zoe’s arm. "What a coincidence."
Zoe’s scalp tightened. She lifted her head coldly, only to lock eyes with Stella Joyce’s beaming face. Zoe shook off her hand in disgust, having absolutely no desire to engage with her.
But Stella wasn’t about to let her go so easily. "Was the other day exciting?" she asked in a light, breathy voice.