Driving away from the Hawthorne Residence, Zoe Lancaster drove very slowly. Her thoughts were entirely disjointed, and even the road ahead looked blurry. She couldn’t calm down; she was in too terrible a state.
Having no other choice, Zoe pulled over at a commercial district. She parked in the lot, got out of the car, and felt entirely lost about the road ahead. She didn’t even know what she was supposed to do right now.
After a moment of thought, she went to a supermarket, bought a can of beer, and took a walk by the nearby river. It was an overcast day, and with the temperature dropping further in the evening, the river breeze cut into her like a knife, slicing her to the bone. Oddly enough, the torturous sensation made Zoe feel a bit more clear-headed.
She sat on a bench, watching the sparkling river surface reflect the city lights. The beer was freezing against her throat, but she endured it, taking small, steady sips. She sat there in a daze for a long time. It might have been an hour, or maybe two. By the time she snapped out of it, her limbs were completely numb from the cold. The crowds in the commercial district behind her had also gradually thinned out.
Belatedly touching her face, she found no trace of moisture. She had assumed she would cry because it hurt so much, but it turned out she hadn’t shed a single tear.
DING.
A WhatsApp notification chimed.
Zoe finally checked her phone. It was a message from Autumn Linden.
Autumn: [Zoe! Mom and I are all settled in. The house is seriously huge. Thank you so much for all your hard work! Though that man who came to rescue me looked a little scary and mean.]
Zoe curled her stiff, freezing fingers before typing a reply. [Rest assured, Leo Linden won’t be able to find you there for now. I’ll come see you tomorrow.]
Autumn: [Mom says you have to bring your husband. I really want to see what kind of man managed to snatch away my beautiful cousin.]
Zoe stared blankly for a moment. Aunt Claire and Autumn thought she was living a blissful life. Little did they know, she was the one who had been pathetically clinging to him from the very beginning. However, she didn’t want to reveal this humiliation, lest they worry.
Zoe: [We’ll see when we have time.]
The next second, Autumn sent a voice message. It was Claire Sutton speaking. "Zoe, I went out today and bought some food and drinks. Tomorrow is the weekend, so you must bring your husband over and let me have a look at him, or else I won’t have peace of mind. Looking at everything here over the past two days feels so surreal that I haven’t been sleeping well. I absolutely must meet him, understand?"
Zoe sighed, feeling a headache coming on. Since Aunt Claire had put it that way, what excuse could she possibly find to refuse? After much deliberation, she slowly typed back: [Okay.]
Looking at the time, she was surprised to find it was nearly midnight. She had been sitting there for almost four hours.
After moving her limbs a bit, she finally felt somewhat alive again. Gripping her phone, she opened her contacts and stared at Simon Hawthorne’s number, her thumb hesitating repeatedly. She debated with herself for a long time before finally steeling her resolve and dialing.
It rang for a long time on the other end. Finally, the call connected.
Zoe opened her mouth to speak, but the person on the other end spoke first. "Who is this?"
It was Peyton Joyce’s voice.
Zoe’s throat completely seized up, rendering her incapable of making a single sound.
Peyton let out a confused hum, then asked again, "Are you looking for Simon? He just fell asleep. Could you call back tomorrow?"
Zoe hung up without hesitation. The hand gripping her phone trembled uncontrollably.
Peyton Joyce was with Simon Hawthorne? They were actually spending the night together? At this hour, what else could it be other than spending the night together? Furthermore, Simon hadn’t saved her number. Or rather, he hadn’t even given her a contact name. Was that why Peyton didn’t know it was her calling?
Zoe bit her lip, her eyes uncontrollably welling up with tears. Unable to hold back, she cursed aloud, "What a scumbag and a bitch!"
She couldn’t find any other adjectives to describe them.
Wiping her tears, Zoe called a designated driver to take her home. Since things had already come to this, was there any need for her to beg Simon to accompany her to see her aunt? With his precious first love keeping him company, would he be willing to spare any time to entertain her?
The answer was obvious. Simon Hawthorne—he was simply too ruthless.
*
The next day.
Simon got up very early, changed his clothes, and went downstairs. Yesterday, he had kept his grandfather and Peyton company playing chess and chatting, and then worked in his study until past midnight. If Peyton hadn’t come by to return the phone he had left in the chess room, he probably would have pulled an all-nighter.
Linden was already waiting outside in the courtyard. Seeing Simon come out, Linden stepped forward to report the day’s itinerary. "At eight this morning, there’s the regular meeting. At ten, you’ll attend the Jinxing bidding conference. At three this afternoon, you have a meeting and negotiation with the chairman of Mayfield from Seaport. And at seven tonight, the eldest son of the Bedford Group has invited you to play golf."
Simon nodded. "Understood."
"There’s one more thing," Linden added. "Madam’s aunt is all settled in. Should we... arrange a visit?"
A few days ago, Mr. Hawthorne had taken Shane Shaw to Veridia, Kaelan. Meanwhile, Linden had been left behind in Kingsford to handle matters regarding Zoe’s aunt and cousin. He had been running around dealing with everything, and Zoe’s aunt was clearly very curious about him and the person backing him. Sooner or later, an explanation had to be given.
Simon finally stopped in his tracks. His long, narrow eyes narrowed slightly as he checked the call log on his phone. There were no calls from Zoe. No text messages, either.
He had almost forgotten—after he had helped her deal with all these matters over the past few days, this woman hadn’t even uttered a single word of thanks?
His brow furrowed slowly, his eyes growing increasingly cold. "That woman is an ungrateful wretch."
Not even a single phone call. From the time he went abroad to his return, had they not bumped into each other at the Hawthorne Residence, she probably would have forgotten his existence entirely.
Linden wiped a drop of cold sweat from his forehead. Mr. Hawthorne seemed... very displeased.
It made sense. Over all these years, Madam was the only one who had done absolutely everything possible to get on Mr. Hawthorne’s bad side. If you asked him, Madam was a complete anomaly, born solely to infuriate Mr. Hawthorne.
Before getting into the car, Simon said with a cold expression, "Go prepare some gifts. Cancel the golf game."
*
After waking up, Zoe unfortunately discovered that she had caught a cold.
Her throat hurt, her head ached, and her body was wracked with chills. She had sat outside in the freezing wind for too long yesterday, and her body couldn’t take it. She dragged herself up, took some cold medicine, and ignored the deep ache in her bones as she went to the mall to buy some household necessities. After keeping busy all day, she drove to her aunt’s new address.
It was a high-end residential complex called Crescent Peninsula. The average price per square meter was around one hundred and ten thousand, and the apartment was said to be a three-bedroom, one-living-room unit with over one hundred and twenty square meters of interior space. In Kingsford, it was considered upper-middle-class.
Just as she finished parking, Claire called to rush her.
"Zoe, come up quickly! We have a guest."
Zoe froze. A guest? Wasn’t she the only relative her aunt and cousin had in Kingsford? Who else did they know? She casually agreed and quickly took the elevator upstairs.
The apartment was on the thirteenth floor.
The moment Zoe arrived at the door, Autumn was already waiting. Her fair, delicate face bore a rather bizarre expression of excitement. The moment she saw Zoe, she immediately stepped forward, hooked her arm through Zoe’s, and urged, "Hurry, hurry, we’re just waiting for you!"
Zoe found it amusing. "What are you so excited about, you silly girl?"
As her words fell, Zoe caught sight of the man sitting in the living room, looking entirely too aristocratic for his surroundings.
She froze in an instant.
The man looked over at her unhurriedly. He sat on the sofa in a relaxed posture, his long legs elegantly crossed. His dark, cold eyes landed on her bewildered face through the thin lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses.
Lowering his voice, he slowly drawled, "What are you spacing out for, wife?"