Zoe Lancaster didn’t dare to overthink it.
Her immediate crisis was resolved. Simon Hawthorne hadn’t gone back on his word; in fact, he had handled the matter with exceptional thoroughness. Her aunt’s family had been relocated, shielding them as much as possible from Leo Linden’s torment. The manpower, resources, and money required for such a feat were nothing short of staggering.
At the very least...
Zoe rolled over on the bed, which still seemed to carry Simon’s scent. She absentmindedly raised her hand, gazing at the ring that had been slipped back onto her finger.
At the very least, he was a reliable man.
Emotions aside, in every other aspect, he had never treated her poorly.
Massaging her throbbing temples, Zoe forced herself to sit up. She endured the lingering physical discomfort and went to take a shower. It wasn’t until she stood before the mirror that she noticed the bruises. Trailing down her neck, stark against her porcelain-white skin, blossomed a chaotic scattering of hickeys.
There was even a bite mark on the nape of her neck, left in a moment of sheer passion.
It felt like a declaration of sovereignty.
He had covered her body in his marks, announcing to everyone that she was spoken for.
Zoe only spaced out for a few seconds before snapping back to reality.
She used to think that only couples who were deeply in love would act like this. Now, it seemed it was just a man’s nature. Even without love, his possessiveness was at work, forbidding anyone else from crossing his boundaries.
He was warning her.
Warning her never to intentionally converse with other men again.
The incident with Sean Sheffield would only happen once.
A sudden wave of frustration washed over Zoe. Her skin was sensitive, and these marks wouldn’t fade for at least three days. If she went to see her aunt’s family sporting such undeniable evidence of intimacy, wouldn’t it be far too conspicuous?
She wasn’t that thick-skinned.
Did he think everyone was as shameless as him?
After her shower, she meticulously cleaned up the bedroom. She stripped the bed, tossing the sheets and duvet cover into the washing machine. Things had gotten way too wild yesterday, completely overwhelming her, and the evidence left on his sheets was glaringly obvious.
Once everything was done, Zoe finally left The Imperial Residence.
This was his private domain. She wasn’t oblivious enough to assume she had free reign to come and go as she pleased.
Having barely slept the night before, she collapsed onto her bed the moment she returned to her apartment, skipping a meal entirely.
It had been a day since Simon left. He hadn’t sent a single message.
Four days later, Zoe received a reply from Lance Langley. She had passed the initial screening and was invited for an interview.
It was easily the best news she had received in a long while.
Zoe quickly got up to do her makeup. She selected a crisp, tailored white blazer that cinched at the waist, accentuating her long legs and perfect proportions while maintaining a professional yet stylish flair. Her thick, voluminous wavy hair cascaded down her shoulders, giving her an aura of stunning, intellectual elegance.
Right before heading out, she glanced down at the ring on her finger. After some deliberation, she found a necklace, threaded the ring onto the chain, and wore it around her neck, hiding it safely beneath her collar.
The corporate world was cruel. Married women often faced an uphill battle, so sometimes, it was necessary to be practical.
The holidays were over, and morning traffic was gridlocked. Fortunately, Zoe had left an hour early, arriving at the Lance Langley building right on time.
The interview didn’t take long. The interviewers were thoroughly impressed with her resume and background, leaving Zoe ninety percent confident she had secured the position.
Stepping out of the interview room, she headed straight for the elevator.
When the doors slid open, Zoe stepped inside without glancing up to see who else was there. She pulled out her phone to check the time—10:30 AM.
Soon, she realized she wasn’t alone. A faint, familiar scent of Yulong tea perfume drifted toward her, prompting her to glance to her side.
As her eyes landed on the man standing next to her, Zoe was momentarily startled.
He was incredibly handsome.
The man was very tall; even in her heels, she only reached his earlobes. He wore a perfectly pressed gray suit that highlighted his broad shoulders and narrow waist. A vintage-style brooch was meticulously pinned to his lapel. He had a remarkably fair complexion, striking phoenix eyes, and deep-set features with a prominent brow bone that hinted at mixed Western heritage.
He was the only man Zoe had ever seen who could rival Simon Hawthorne—both in appearance and sheer presence.
Perhaps sensing her gaze, the man turned his head to look at her.
Realizing it was impolite to stare, Zoe quickly spoke up. "I’m sorry. You just look a bit familiar..."
She regretted the words the second they left her mouth. Why did that sound like such a cliché, cheap pickup line? But he genuinely did look familiar.
The man didn’t seem offended. The corners of his lips quirked into a faint smile. "It’s fine."
Zoe offered an awkward, apologetic smile, then quickly lowered her head, pretending to be very busy with her phone.
DING.
Her phone chimed at just the right moment. Eager to escape the awkwardness, Zoe hastily opened the notification. But the moment she read the message, her fingers froze. An icy chill swept through her entire body.
It was a WhatsApp message from Cecilia Sloan. Just one photo and one sentence.
Cecilia Sloan: [A friend of mine ran into Mr. Hawthorne while shopping in Veridia the day before yesterday. He was keeping another woman company. I figured you deserved to know, right?]
Zoe stared at the two people in the photograph.
A man was standing in front of a car, reaching out to embrace the woman sitting inside. Though the photo was taken from the side, it was crystal clear that his expression held not a trace of impatience. In fact, it was utterly tender.
The woman’s arms were naturally wrapped around his neck. Her delicate, gentle face looked pure and serene, and her eyes were brimming with adoration as she gazed at him.
What a picturesque scene.
Zoe suddenly found it hard to breathe. It felt as though someone had smashed her ribcage with a sledgehammer. Her grip faltered, and the phone slipped from her hand, hitting the floor with a clatter.
It landed right by the man’s feet, but she remained entirely unresponsive.
Miles Yates bent down to retrieve the device. Seeing the color drain instantly from the woman’s face, he frowned slightly. "Are you..."
The elevator doors chimed open.
With a deafening ringing in her ears, Zoe couldn’t hear a thing. Her legs carried her forward on autopilot, completely numb.
So over the past few days, he had flown to Veridia, Kaelan, to be with—
Peyton Joyce.
She pushed through the revolving doors and stepped out of the corporate building. The bitter winter wind lashed against her skin like a barrage of tiny needles, jolting her into a brief moment of clarity. The shock had come so fast and so hard that her brain had simply short-circuited.
She had thought things between her and Simon were simple—that they merely didn’t love each other. But the reality was that he deeply loved someone else. He had another woman in his heart, and that was the true cause of their current predicament. The nature of their arrangement was entirely different from what she had assumed.
"Zoe Lancaster."
A deep voice called out from behind her.
Zoe turned around to see the man from the elevator striding toward her. In her daze, it took her a second to register that Miles had already stopped in front of her. He held out her phone. "You dropped this. Are you alright?"
Her mind was in such chaos that she entirely missed the fact that a stranger had just called her by her full name.
Snapping out of her stupor, Zoe hurriedly pulled herself together. "I’m fine. Thank you."
Miles looked at her. His pleasant voice was unhurried, offering just the right amount of concern like a true, comforting gentleman. "Are you sure? You look terribly pale."
Forcing her swirling emotions down, Zoe looked up. The wind swept her dark hair back, revealing the full extent of her exquisite, delicate features. She offered him a polite smile. "I was just lost in thought. Thank you for your concern."
Her hair was long, and the unruly wind blew a few silky strands across the back of his hand. It was a fleeting, barely-there caress, yet it sent a continuous, inexplicable tingle across his skin.
Miles gazed at her radiant smile. His eyes subtly dropped to the back of his hand—which looked entirely normal despite the lingering sensation—before he quietly curled his fingers inward.
Not too far away.
A Maybach was parked silently by the curb. A man stepped out of the car, with Linden hurrying to keep up right behind him. But after taking only two steps, he halted.
Through the lenses of his glasses, his dark, fathomless eyes locked onto a scene diagonally across the street.
A man and a woman were standing face to face.
The woman was tilting her breathtakingly beautiful face up, flashing a soft, sweet smile at the man in front of her—