Zoe Lancaster rushed back to the Hawthorne Residence.
Even though today was New Year’s Eve, the Lancaster family had no place for her.
Aside from her years before high school, she had moved out of the Lancaster family villa when she started college and rarely returned for the holidays. Sometimes it was due to her busy work schedule, and other times she would fly to Portellis to accompany her sick mother.
Martin Lancaster would only call and put on the act of a good father, exchanging a few hollow pleasantries. The true family reunion was meant only for his own little family.
Gradually, her heart ceased to hold onto any expectations.
Because of this, she was determined to make a lot of money. Once she cured her mother, she would take her back to their hometown in Sorina and live a peaceful, stable life.
Most of the Hawthorne family had returned.
Hayden Hawthorne, from the second branch of the family, was a renowned architectural designer. His son, Ryan Hawthorne, was twenty-six this year—only two years younger than Simon Hawthorne. Currently, Ryan was involved in the Hawthorne family’s shipping and export business. He rarely returned to the Hawthorne Residence and was known as a polite, gentlemanly man.
Zane Hawthorne, from the third branch, was involved in politics and no longer participated in the family business. Barring any surprises, he was set for a promotion this year. Countless people tried every trick in the book to cross his threshold, seeking protection and a green light. However, having been born into a century-old aristocratic family like the Hawthornes, worldly wealth was no longer his pursuit.
Every member of the Hawthorne family was exceptional.
Naturally, they placed the utmost importance on their reputation.
The vile spawn born of Cecilia Sloan would naturally be subjected to strict discipline.
As for Mercy Hawthorne.
The Hawthorne family was thriving with male heirs. The second branch had two sons: Ryan and another who was currently far away abroad. The third branch also had two sons, though they had only just started college this year; they were sent abroad to study, polish their resumes, and build their social circles—every step calculated with absolute precision.
Only the first branch had produced a daughter, Mercy Hawthorne.
Naturally, she was doted upon endlessly in her daily life, making her personality rather arrogant and domineering.
However—
Zoe stopped in her tracks.
She saw Mercy standing in the greenhouse, talking on the phone. Mercy seemed deeply hurt by whoever was on the other end, crying incessantly just like she had the other day. "Caleb, do you have another woman? Why are you rejecting me?"
Zoe felt her scalp tingle with secondhand embarrassment.
Had she just stumbled upon someone’s secret?
Zoe did not know what the person on the other end replied, but Mercy suddenly grew agitated. "I don’t believe it! I’ve known you for so long, how could you not feel anything for me?"
It was completely obvious now.
The other party did not like Mercy.
It was just her wishful thinking.
It was rather inappropriate for Zoe to stay here. She quietly turned around, just about to leave.
"What did you hear?!"
Her arm was grabbed, forcing Zoe to turn back.
She met Mercy’s face, which was flushed with shame and anger.
In truth, Mercy was indeed very beautiful. Ken Lowell had been a renowned beauty in Kingsford back in the day, and June Hawthorne had been stunningly brilliant. Naturally, their children were exceptional. Of course, the vast majority of those excellent genes had been passed down to Simon Hawthorne, granting him a bewitching, one-in-a-million face.
"I’m asking you a question! Why are you spacing out?!" Mercy flew into a rage out of humiliation. "What’s wrong with you? Eavesdropping on other people’s conversations—do you have any manners?"
A crease formed between Zoe’s brows. "If it’s so shameful, why didn’t you make the call in your room? Do you own the entire Hawthorne Residence?"
"The Hawthorne Residence is my home! You’re just an outsider—what right do you have to criticize me? Did you think that just because my brother married you, you’ve actually climbed the ranks to become the mistress of the Hawthorne Residence?" Mercy sneered. "Keep dreaming!"
Zoe had already been in low spirits, and being insulted by Mercy only worsened it. She replied with a cold expression, "Yes, the Hawthorne Residence has nothing to do with me. I know my place. But whether or not someone likes you—that’s something you clearly don’t know."
Mercy froze.
Immediately after, her face turned deathly pale, and a surge of furious resentment rushed over her.
"Shut up!"
She instinctively raised her hand, about to slap Zoe.
Zoe, having lost her patience as well, tried to dodge.
The moment she took a step back, her back bumped into a firm, warm embrace that exuded the scent of ebony and agarwood. Meanwhile, Mercy’s raised arm was caught and held firmly in midair by the person behind Zoe.
Caught squarely between the two of them, Zoe could not help but freeze.
"Mercy, what are you trying to do to Zoe?"
The tone was unruffled, the voice deep and pleasant, yet it carried an aura of ruthless hostility. It instilled a suffocating sense of panic, like a venomous snake wrapping around one’s neck.
Mercy felt a sharp pain in her wrist. Meeting her brother’s profoundly dark eyes, she shrank back involuntarily, all the strength draining from her arm. "Simon..."
Simon released Mercy’s wrist, his eyes dark and unfathomable behind his glasses. "If something like this happens again, you will be kneeling in the ancestral hall."
Mercy bit her lip, glared resentfully at Zoe, and turned to run away.
Although she was his only sister, her brother had never spoiled her excessively. He disciplined and scolded her whenever necessary, never showing any leniency. Because of this, she had been afraid of Simon since childhood.
After Mercy left, Zoe finally turned around, looking up at the man’s overly enticing face.
Sometimes she truly could not understand him. He was the one who did bad things to her, yet he was also the one who occasionally protected her. What exactly were his true intentions?
"Thank you."
She was about to leave right after saying that.
Simon grabbed her wrist with his long, slender fingers and pulled her back. She stumbled, getting pulled right against the rough trunk of a pine tree. She looked up. "What are you doing, Mr. Hawthorne?"
She hadn’t even calmed down yet.
He had intimidated so many companies into not hiring her—was she really expected to kiss up to him now?
Simon was wearing a white dress shirt today, without a suit vest. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing his prominent collarbones. He looked dangerously sexy, yet his expression remained cold. "You went to see Lance Langley?"
Zoe paused for a moment before she quickly realized what he meant. "Have you been having someone watch me?"
Simon stared down at the woman, a smirk tugging at his thin, reddish lips. "Do you really despise being near me that much? Even if you’re rejected by every single company out there, it’s impossible for you to come back?"
"Don’t you find me an eyesore? Wouldn’t I just be making things difficult for you, Mr. Hawthorne?" Zoe turned her head away. For some inexplicable reason, she did not dare to look into Simon’s eyes; their searing intensity unsettled her thoughts. The man clamped his hand around her jaw and forced her face back toward him.
"When did I ever say that?" He felt he was being calm and reasonable enough, but this woman never seemed to learn how to behave!
Zoe bit her lip. "Isn’t that how you’ve been acting?"
Didn’t everything that happened between them show that Simon didn’t actually like her all that much?
Simon gazed at her with profound eyes.
The woman’s pearly white teeth bit into her lower lip, leaving it moist and even more delicate. She possessed a pair of alluring, peach-blossom eyes. Every blink, every frown, every smile—even this resentful expression she wore—seemed to exude an intangible charm that made one’s throat go dry.
It made him want nothing more than to fiercely leave his mark on her.
"Fine." Simon’s gaze remained glued to her lips as he seemingly took a step back. "I’ll let bygones be bygones. Come back to work at headquarters."
Zoe felt that his words still sounded like charity.
After driving her into a corner, he was suddenly offering to let bygones be bygones?
She struggled against his grip. "No. I can manage on my own. I don’t need your pity, Mr. Hawthorne."
"Zoe Lancaster, must you always oppose me?"
Zoe took a deep breath. "We’re just a married couple in name only anyway. Why are you refusing to let me go?"
Looking at the woman’s perplexed and utterly rebellious demeanor, an unspeakable sense of irritability welled up within Simon.
Zoe was no longer in the mood to argue with him.
She nimbly ducked out from under his arm. However, before she could even take two steps, a dry, warm hand gripped the back of her neck and yanked her backward. She was forced to turn around, and the man lowered his head, crashing his lips fiercely onto hers.
The hand gripping her waist tightened inch by inch.
Zoe could barely catch her breath.
But he refused to let her go, launching an even fiercer assault. She tried to dodge, but he chased her every move, leaving the root of her tongue numb and her hair wildly disheveled.
"Mr. Haw..."
Freeing one hand, he gently brushed her hair aside. He planted soft, pecking kisses on her lips, which were now red and swollen from his passionate assault. Hidden within his actions seemed to be a trace of imperceptible tenderness.
"Be a little more obedient, alright?"