Zoe Lancaster was completely oblivious to what had happened, her attention fully absorbed by the various boutiques. It wasn’t until Simon Hawthorne caught up with her that she faintly sensed the aura around him had grown increasingly frigid. It was as if bone-chilling shards of ice had condensed around him, his breathtakingly handsome face entirely devoid of expression. It was exceptionally intimidating.
Zoe’s scalp tingled, a wave of apprehension washing over her. She wondered what had suddenly happened to him. He seemed to be in a terrible mood. Despite her doubts, she wasn’t foolish enough to ask and risk bringing trouble upon herself.
She had no idea why Simon was even here. She hadn’t seen him discussing any business deals or acquisition plans. He had just been accompanying her the whole time, almost as if he had come solely to shop with her.
This thought only lingered for a few seconds before Zoe decisively rejected it. As a top-tier figure in the financial world where every second counted and time was literally money, his daily business affairs were piled high like a mountain. How could he possibly spare the time to accompany her on a shopping trip? Hell would freeze over before that happened. Shaking her head, she made her way to the cash register to settle her bill.
"Simon."
A sweet, gentle voice drifted over from not too far away.
Zoe froze almost instantly and looked up.
Peyton Joyce was accompanied by two bodyguards carrying her shopping spoils. She looked at Simon with a faint smile, seemingly very pleasantly surprised, and trotted over to him. Perhaps due to her frail health, she coughed slightly as she came to a halt.
Simon’s brow furrowed deeper, his voice softening. "Why are you running? Mind your health."
This was a side of him Zoe rarely saw—so gentle and patient. It was as if a man as cold and callous as him had reserved his only capacity for love for the woman standing right before him.
Zoe silently clenched her fists, her nails digging painfully into her palms.
Peyton’s face was pale and clean, devoid of much makeup, as pure and beautiful as a white camellia. "My return to the country was so rushed that I didn’t pack many intimates, so I came to buy some. Since you’re here, Simon, could it be that you came to buy things for me?"
That single sentence made Zoe instantly realize the truth. No wonder. No wonder Simon had the leisure and mood for this today. It turned out it was all for Peyton.
Simon didn’t answer her. He cast an imperceptible glance at Zoe, whose back was turned to them inside the shop, before asking Peyton, "Have you picked out what you need?"
Peyton smiled sweetly and produced a necktie from her shopping bag like a magic trick. "I saw this just now and thought it would suit you perfectly, so I bought it. In the past, I spent so long learning how to tie a tie for you, but I never actually bought you one. Let me put it on you to see how it looks."
Simon lowered his eyes. His gaze was cool and clear, but he didn’t refuse.
A wave of sweetness filled Peyton’s heart. Standing on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her cheeks slightly flushed as she adjusted his collar. They looked incredibly affectionate, painting an undeniably enviable picture.
The boutique manager standing nearby was sharp and immediately offered praise. "You two are so deeply in love. Are you boyfriend and girlfriend? What a perfect match!"
Simon didn’t reply.
Peyton, on the other hand, had eyes brimming with boundless tenderness. She smiled shyly, as if silently acknowledging it.
"Do you like it, Simon?" Peyton tilted her head, her eyes full of expectation.
Simon kept his eyes lowered, hiding his emotions, yet his response was quite considerate. "Yes. Thank you for the thought."
Zoe’s tightly clenched hands trembled uncontrollably. A lingering, sharp pain pierced her chest, impossible to shake off.
Until—
"Zoe Lancaster, haven’t you finished choosing?" Simon’s urging voice sounded from behind her.
Zoe abruptly snapped out of her daze.
Peyton also seemed very surprised as she turned her head to look. Spotting Zoe’s figure not far away, she looked at Simon with an apologetic and panicked expression before explaining, "I’m sorry... I didn’t see that Zoe was here too..."
It was as if she realized she had been overly intimate with Simon and subconsciously apologized, terrified that Zoe, the legitimate wife, would misunderstand something. But to Zoe’s eyes, it looked exactly like a textbook example of a guilty conscience overcompensating.
She turned around, her expression largely unruffled. "Yes, just out for a stroll with my husband. The tie Miss Joyce gave my husband is quite nice."
Her calm statement, coupled with her natural use of the word "husband," caused the nearby sales associates—who had just been envying Peyton and Simon’s affection—to change their expressions slightly. They grew so awkward they didn’t know where to look.
So it turned out... this woman wasn’t this gentleman’s girlfriend. His actual wife was standing right here.
Simon’s eyes darkened. As he looked at Zoe’s face, no one knew what was going through his mind.
Peyton was visibly flustered, her eyes reddening with anxiety. "Zoe, please don’t misunderstand. If you mind, I’ll take it back. Simon, let me take it off for you..."
"No need." Simon calmly stopped Peyton’s movement to retrieve the tie. His placid gaze shifted to Zoe. "There’s no need to make a fuss over nothing," he said, before adding, "It’s a thoughtful gift, and I will wear it."
A chill ran down Zoe’s spine. She was completely stunned into silence, forgetting how to react.
Peyton, however, calmed down. She seemed deeply moved by Simon’s words, tears shimmering in her eyes. Her delicate, vulnerable appearance was enough to stir anyone’s pity. It was as if she had just suffered some terrible injustice of being misunderstood, while Zoe was the unreasonable tyrant refusing to let things go. Even Zoe’s own husband was clearly siding with another woman.
Zoe took a deep breath, a dull, piercing ache spreading through her lungs. Without a word, she paid for her items and prepared to leave alone. She had her pride. Simon was blatantly protecting Peyton. His undisguised favoritism would only make Zoe look even more humiliated if she stayed.
"Zoe Lancaster, why are you throwing a tantrum?" Simon moved quickly, reaching out to grab her wrist. A lingering coldness remained in his refined brow. "We’re heading back to the Hawthorne Residence shortly. Grandmother asked you to go back for a visit."
Zoe couldn’t break free from his grip at all. Feeling suffocated, she desperately suppressed her grievances, unconsciously adopting a prickly, defensive demeanor. "What am I going back for?"
Simon didn’t let her go, simply pulling her by the hand toward the elevator. "Ask Grandmother yourself."
Zoe felt a knot of anger tighten in her chest. Crystal Hayes had hit the nail on the head: making a living meant swallowing a whole lot of crap!
Peyton followed them in silence. Her gaze fell thoughtfully on their clasped hands. A strange emotion flashed through her eyes before she quickly concealed it.
Upon reaching the car, Zoe, who had been dragged along by Simon the entire time, naturally followed him to the backseat. Just as Simon opened the car door, Peyton suddenly called out weakly from behind him, "Simon..."
Zoe turned her head.
Peyton’s small face was deathly pale. She looked as if she were about to collapse, calling out Simon’s name with sheer dependency.
Almost out of habitual reflex, Simon reached out and wrapped an arm around Peyton’s shoulders. Unconcealed worry spilled from his eyes behind his glasses. "Are you feeling dizzy?"
Zoe looked down at her own hand, which he had released without a moment’s hesitation. The warmth was already gone. The cold air that swept in felt like a dense cluster of blades, piercing the very skin on her wrist that his palm had just encompassed.