The light from the entryway’s round overhead lamp fell perfectly on the bouquet in Simon Hawthorne’s arms. It seemed to soften his cold, unapproachable aura with a touch of heart-pounding romance, making one’s pulse flutter uncontrollably.
Zoe Lancaster stared blankly for a moment, caught entirely off guard. Her palm gripping her phone inexplicably broke out in a fine sweat. She forced her gaze away from the bouquet, though her tingling fingertips betrayed her nervousness. "I put my luggage in the guest bedroom. I won’t disturb you."
"Mm," Simon responded simply.
He changed his shoes and walked toward her, stopping only when he reached her side. He lowered his gaze to the back of her head. She wore her hair in a loose bun today, exposing the elegant, snow-white curve of her neck. He knew how soft and smooth it was, and how it would flush a faint pink when she was aroused—an incredibly enticing sight.
"Zoe Lancaster." His icy tone carried no discernible emotion.
Zoe, already feeling unsettled, instinctively turned her head. "Huh?"
A bouquet of flowers was immediately shoved into her arms. Looking down, she realized that tucked tightly between the layers of pink roses were crisp, red hundred-yuan bills. There were too many to count. In an instant, the bouquet became utterly irresistible. She hugged it tight, terrified of dropping it.
Her stalled heart suddenly began to pound in a chaotic, frantic rhythm. Unable to suppress her leaping joy, she looked at him in disbelief and asked softly, "Are these for me?"
Simon lowered his lashes, taking in her inexplicably flushed face. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He suddenly recalled how, not long ago, he had gone down to the PR department and accidentally spotted the roses that boy from the Quincy family had given her. She had been holding them tightly in her arms then, looking quite pleased. They said women never resisted a bouquet of flowers. So...
"Someone gave them to me, but I didn’t like them. Do whatever you want with them." Averting his gaze, he brought a fist to his lips and let out a light cough before turning to head upstairs for a shower.
Zoe’s expression shifted rapidly. Her pounding heart felt as if it had been flash-frozen by a sudden winter blizzard, and a surge of furious irritation ignited in her beautiful, alluring eyes.
Was Simon insane? Someone else gave them to him, and he brought them back for her to dispose of? Had he seriously just come over to show off?
Zoe felt like a lit firecracker. She wanted nothing more than to storm into his room and blow him to pieces! She looked down at the cash tucked inside the bouquet. There was at least ten thousand yuan in there.
Biting her lip, Zoe stomped up to the second floor and stormed into the guest bedroom—THUMP THUMP THUMP. Locking the door wasn’t enough to vent her frustration. Brimming with an excess of brute strength, she shoved the room’s sofa directly against the door, barricading it completely. Only then did she finally settle down.
By the time Simon finished his shower, it was nearly eleven at night. He hadn’t heard any movement outside. Knowing Zoe wasn’t one to go to bed early, he opened his door, walked over to the guest bedroom, and gave the handle a gentle twist.
It was locked.
A hint of puzzlement flickered in his deep, handsome eyes. He wondered why she would lock the door after receiving flowers. Furrowing his brows, he eventually arrived at a logical conclusion. She was shy.
Since he still had an international conference call to attend, he didn’t dwell on it. He returned to his room and booted up his computer to work. The lights in his room didn’t go out until three in the morning.
The next day.
It had snowed all night, leaving the world outside blanketed in a vast expanse of white. In the courtyard, the staff had already begun clearing the snow.
Simon never slept in. Even after pulling a late night, he rose at seven o’clock sharp, worked out for forty minutes, showered, and headed down for breakfast. The fact that it was the weekend made no difference.
Freshly dressed, he stepped out of his room and glanced into the guest bedroom as he passed by. Zoe was already gone; she must have woken up early.
Without breaking his stride, Simon went downstairs and stepped outside. However, he abruptly halted by the trash can near the entrance.
Sitting conspicuously inside the unemptied trash can was the bouquet of roses he had brought home the night before. They were already dusted with a layer of snow, indicating they had been tossed out early in the morning. As for the cash tucked inside, however, not a single bill remained.
His deep, dark eyes darkened even further. The aura radiating from him suddenly felt far more freezing than the harsh winter air.
Spotting Simon, Linden greeted him with a beaming smile. "Mr. Hawthorne, breakfast is ready in the front dining hall. Today’s itinerary includes negotiations with the CEO of Veridia’s Brightstar Group..."
"Are you in a particularly good mood today?" Simon asked, tearing his gaze away from the discarded bouquet. His icy tone carried an unmistakable undercurrent of danger.
Having worked for Simon for years, Linden’s danger radar instantly went off. He immediately wiped the grin off his face. "No, sir."
Frowning, Simon strode toward the car on his long legs and climbed in.
Linden knew exactly what this meant—he was skipping breakfast. Linden found it bizarre. Mr. Hawthorne always took excellent care of his health, and breakfast was an absolute must. He wondered what on earth had happened so early in the morning to ruin his boss’s mood.
Once inside the car, Simon grabbed his tablet and initiated a video call with Sean Sheffield.
While Simon maintained an incredibly disciplined lifestyle, Sean practically lived in the nightlife scene. He had only just gone to bed. Yanked awake from his sleep, he answered the call with his hair sticking up in every direction and gritted his teeth. "Mr. Hawthorne! You’re bothering me at this ungodly hour, so this had better be an absolute emergency!"
"She threw the flowers in the trash."
There was nearly a full minute of silence on the other end of the line. When Sean’s sleep-addled brain finally processed the words, he asked, "Didn’t you say giving flowers was moronic?"
Simon gave him a flat, unimpressed look.
Sean had always been terrified of that exact expression. It was the look of a man who could kill without spilling a drop of blood, a clear warning of impending doom. He cleared his throat. "That doesn’t make sense. Girls are supposed to love flowers. Did you say something sweet to her? The delivery is the most important part."
"I told her to do whatever she wanted with them. Isn’t that sweet enough?" He wondered how giving her the ultimate executive power to decide wasn’t good enough.
That fully woke Sean up, replacing his drowsiness with exasperation. "If you don’t know how to use that mouth of yours, donate it to someone who does! If I were your wife, I wouldn’t have just thrown those flowers in the trash. I would’ve shoved them down your throat just to see how stubborn you really are!"
Simon glared at him coldly, his brows knitting tighter together. "Women are incredibly troublesome."
In his twenty-eight years of life, he had never gone out of his way to coax anyone like this. And yet, Zoe had completely failed to appreciate his gesture!
Sean swallowed his urge to hurl insults. Since he couldn’t afford to offend Simon, he resorted to earnest advice instead. "Women aren’t troublesome at all. Just put a little thought into it, and they’ll be thrilled. Buy them designer bags and jewelry on holidays, gift them a car when you’re in a good mood, and wire them fifty-two thousand bucks just because. With a routine like that, there’s not a single woman on earth you can’t win over."
Seeing Simon genuinely pondering this with a dark expression, Sean smirked. "Tell you what. Wire me five million, and I’ll give you a step-by-step masterclass."
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP—
Simon ruthlessly terminated the call. He concluded that his brain must have short-circuited for him to seek advice from a useless playboy like Sean. He would have to be insane to wire that idiot five million.
In the driver’s seat, Linden didn’t dare to breathe. He felt it was an absolute privilege to witness his boss getting knocked down a peg. He couldn’t wait to share this juicy gossip with that stone-faced blockhead, Shane Shaw!
"What’s the status of the investigation into Riley Lancaster?" Simon asked suddenly, massaging his temples.
Linden’s expression turned serious. "She’s currently dating the son of a family whose wealth stems from the construction materials industry. They’re dating with the intention of marriage. Martin Lancaster has his eye on their market share and is taking the match very seriously. His daughter has been deeply involved with the son; they’ve been booking hotel rooms left and right. However..." Linden paused, a strange look crossing his face. "According to our operatives, Riley is also intimately involved with another man on the side."
Simon narrowed his eyes. "Another man?"
"He’s difficult to track," Linden explained. "The locations they frequent are exclusive, high-end private clubs that require special clearance. We’ll need to wait for a better opening to investigate further."
Simon turned his head to stare out the window. The sky was overcast and heavy, exuding a suffocatingly oppressive atmosphere that perfectly mirrored his current mood.
"Keep a close eye on them. Let me know if anything out of the ordinary happens."
The last time, that woman had maliciously drugged Zoe. Even though Zoe was hesitant to openly declare war on Riley, he certainly hadn’t agreed to let the matter slide. Just a little more, and Zoe would have been sent to another man’s bed!
At the thought of this, Simon lowered his gaze and began twisting the ring on his pinky. His eyes were utterly glacial.
Meanwhile, Zoe had woken up early and skipped breakfast at the Hawthorne Residence. Since Crystal Hayes also had the day off, the two close friends met up. They inevitably gossiped about Stella Joyce’s situation and made plans to go shopping together to buy some fresh dog food for that cheating scumbag.
Around noon, they met up at a local Cantonese restaurant.
Zoe’s anger still hadn’t subsided. "He knew Stella’s situation had been resolved, so he probably couldn’t stand the thought of me actually being relaxed! He just had to find a new way to ruin my mood!"