Mrs. Hawthorne kept Simon Hawthorne behind after the father and son of the Joyce family left. Zoe Lancaster, naturally, had no intention of sticking around to be lectured and bolted out of there as fast as she could. Catching a glimpse of the woman scurrying away from the corner of his eye, Simon’s lips twitched in an imperceptible smirk.
Mrs. Hawthorne had been closely observing Simon’s expressions and didn’t miss his fleeting glance. "Your relationship with Zoe seems quite good. That’s a bit unexpected." Her words seemed to carry a deeper meaning.
Simon replied calmly, "Since she’s married into the family, we have to get by one way or another."
Mrs. Hawthorne suddenly chuckled. "Do you think your grandmother is blind and foolish? Do you think I don’t know your personality? If you don’t care about someone, you wouldn’t blink even if they died right in front of you. Moreover, you’ve spent less than three months with this wife of yours in total. What kind of feelings do you actually have for her?"
"Responsibility," Simon answered flatly.
A dark glint flashed in Mrs. Hawthorne’s eyes. "If that’s the case, wouldn’t you have married..."
"Grandma," Simon interrupted her. "You’ve actually been dissatisfied with the Joyce family for a long time. They’ve been squandering our goodwill based on the favor of saving my grandfather back then. Human nature is inherently greedy. When they are given too many benefits over time, they start believing they’re entitled to them. What happened today will serve as a deterrent; at the very least, they will rein themselves in a lot more."
The Joyce family’s appetite had been growing increasingly voracious over the years. They acted with complete disregard for the rules. If not for Stella Joyce’s scandal, their extortion would have been endless.
"So," Mrs. Hawthorne narrowed her eyes, her tone unreadable, "did you have anything to do with what happened to the Joyce girl?"
Simon set down his teacup. "The Hawthorne family isn’t some naive cash cow." His statement clearly laid bare the truth.
Mrs. Hawthorne smiled. "We’ve put up with it for so many years. Is it just because Stella clashed with your wife a few times that you suddenly realized the Hawthornes aren’t a cash cow?" She wondered if he was merely eliminating a future threat, or if he was slipping in a personal vendetta.
Simon’s expression remained unchanged, his voice cold and callous. "She was merely a catalyst. Only by putting the Joyce family in the wrong would they be forced to publicly sever their ties with the Hawthorne Group."
Meanwhile, at the doorway.
Zoe had just walked over, planning to retrieve the scarf she’d left behind, when she overheard his words. A sudden chill shot down her spine. Unable to see the man’s expression inside the hall, Zoe clenched her fists and turned on her heel. She marched outside without looking back, her footsteps swift and hurried as if she were holding in a massive ball of anger. She didn’t stop until she reached a koi pond in the courtyard.
So, the reason he hadn’t pursued Stella for harming her was that he wanted to let Stella continue causing trouble until the Joyce family had no excuses left to extort them. Simon didn’t care about anyone at all, and he definitely didn’t love Stella. She wasn’t stupid. Given Simon’s attitude, the release of Stella’s scandalous video was almost certainly his doing. He had long wanted to stop entangling with Stella, so he used yesterday’s incident to strike from the shadows. When he made his move, it was utterly ruthless—and today, he had almost made Zoe take the blame for it!
Even though she now knew Stella wasn’t Simon’s lover, Zoe still couldn’t feel any joy. Instead, a bone-deep coldness washed over her from head to toe. Simon always hid his true intentions; his calculating nature was terrifying.
The ties between the Hawthorne and Joyce families were enough for Simon to indulge Stella for so long. He didn’t even care when Stella trampled all over his own wife. And when he finally dealt with the problem, he was utterly ruthless. Even though he didn’t love Stella, Zoe finally understood one thing with absolute clarity: her place in Simon’s heart was still nowhere near as high as Stella’s.
Everything she had planned before—trying her best to please him, never defying him, all to secure what she needed—now seemed completely useless. Everything still hinged entirely on his mood!
"Fuck this!" Zoe cursed, her eyes turning red. Why should it be like this?! Even if she acted submissively and obediently right up until their agreed-upon divorce date, what if he still went back on his word? A sense of profound uselessness and powerlessness made Zoe’s head throb painfully.
She kept her head down and continued walking forward. Suddenly, she heard the sound of sobbing ahead of her. A second later, someone bumped into her hard. She fell onto the uneven decorative rocks lining the pond, twisting her ankle so sharply that her shoe slipped off.
Zoe furrowed her brows. She looked up to see Mercy Hawthorne sobbing into her hands. Mercy seemed to have suffered some kind of shock and had come crying from outside. She didn’t even spare Zoe a glance, whereas normally, she would have undoubtedly thrown some sarcastic remarks her way. Did she go through a bad breakup? Zoe wasn’t in the mood to care about Mercy’s affairs anyway.
Just as she was about to stand up, a pair of long, straight legs walked up to her. The fabric of the suit pants draped perfectly, impeccably ironed. Even just looking at his lower legs, they were incredibly attractive. Zoe froze.
Simon was already slowly crouching down. He paid no mind to his expensive overcoat trailing on the ground. His exquisite, handsome face revealed nothing of his thoughts. His noble, elegant hands took hold of Zoe’s calf, gently sliding the dislodged shoe back onto her foot.
"Did you fall?"
The man lowered his eyelashes. The mid-morning sunlight filtered through the expensive pine and cypress trees in the courtyard, casting dappled shadows across his face. It seemed to tinge him with a hint of warmth, making him look breathtakingly captivating.
Zoe suddenly snapped back to her senses and pulled her leg away. "There’s no need to trouble yourself, Mr. Hawthorne."
Simon narrowed his eyes at her. "Mr. Hawthorne?"
Zoe’s mind was full of Simon’s words: "She was merely a catalyst." She turned her head away. "You are my financial backer, so isn’t it only right that I call you Mr. Hawthorne? I should know my place and follow the rules." She was clearly acting out of emotion.
Simon slowly leaned closer, his long, slender fingers pinching Zoe’s cheeks. Her soft, pink lips were forced into a pout. He glanced at her, thinking she looked exactly like a pufferfish right now—making him want to see her puff up even more.
"Are you angry?"
Unable to break free, Zoe mumbled through her pouted lips, "How could I dare? Who knows, maybe one day I’ll end up just like Stella Joyce."
Simon’s lips seemed to curl up into a smile. He found Zoe’s current appearance rather comical. Her cheeks squished in his grasp, pouting as she spoke in such a huff—it made his eyes darken slightly. "Everyone is kicking her while she’s down right now. Shouldn’t you be happy and feeling vindicated? Why are you losing your temper at me?"
Zoe gave a light, cynical laugh. "Didn’t you deal with her just because you disliked what a parasite she was? And now you’re making it sound like you did it just to humor me? Mr. Hawthorne, you’re really good at taking credit." She knew her own place well enough.
Simon kept his gaze fixed on her, furrowing his brow slightly at her ungrateful attitude. "Zoe, can’t you speak properly?" Back then, Stella had leaked the video of Zoe "beating" her. In return, he had exposed the video of Stella partaking in a drug-fueled orgy today. Was that not satisfying enough? Why was Zoe still unhappy?
Zoe took a deep breath. "Since you can be so merciless toward Stella, what about what happened at Old Mr. Quincy’s birthday banquet that day? When I asked if it was possible she had tampered with my dress, why did you defend her so fiercely?"
Simon frowned. "Is that what’s bothering you?"
Zoe bit her lip. "Is it not the truth?"
He stared intently at her reddened eyes. After a long pause, he finally said slowly, "Don’t you know exactly who did it? I checked the surveillance footage that very same day. It was your stepsister’s doing, so why drag Stella into it?"
The moment the incident occurred, he had already ordered Shane Shaw to pull up the security footage, discovering exactly who the culprit was. That was why he had told Zoe it was impossible for Stella to have done it. What exactly was she so hung up on?
Zoe stiffened. How was she supposed to answer that? Should she tell him that she already knew full well who was more likely to have tampered with the dress, but she just wanted to test him? To see that if Stella had been the one to do it, who was more important in his heart—her or Stella? She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Even if she did, she would only receive a heartbreaking answer.
Zoe swatted Simon’s hand away and sniffled. Forcing back her sorrow, she spoke in a seemingly nonchalant tone, "It’s in the past anyway. Talking about it is pointless. It doesn’t matter anymore." She turned around and walked away.
Simon’s brow furrowed coldly. Watching her delicate, retreating figure, his fingertips still tingled with the smooth, soft sensation of her cheeks. He slowly curled his fingers, his mood growing gloomy.
A few moments later, he took out his phone and made a call. "I have something urgent to discuss. Come to Riverbend Tavern."