Autumn froze. Terrified by his deliberate display of ferocity, she forgot to even react, letting her tears stream down her face.
Looking at her now, she seemed even more slow-witted.
Sean Sheffield forcibly suppressed the inexplicable feeling bubbling up inside him. He truly felt like he was losing his mind. Had he eaten too many delicacies that he now suddenly craved something bitter and plain?
He half-lifted, half-carried her up. At five foot five and just over a hundred pounds, the girl wasn’t overly skinny, but in his grip, she felt as light and helpless as a baby chick.
He had barely steadied her when the door burst open.
BANG!
Sean turned his head, his gaze instantly locking with a pair of icy eyes at the doorway.
Simon Hawthorne furrowed his brows slightly. He certainly hadn’t expected that the person who had detained Autumn would be Sean. The moment their eyes met, Sean immediately let go of Autumn, putting on a shameless, indifferent front. "I didn’t do a thing. Look closely—she’s the one clinging to me."
Zoe Lancaster took one look and nearly fainted from anger.
Sean had his hands raised in surrender. Autumn hadn’t fallen to the floor only because she was desperately clutching the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him like a koala.
Zoe rushed forward. "Autumn! Wake up! I’m taking you home."
Autumn looked at her in a daze. She must have recognized her, because her mouth puckered before she suddenly threw herself into Zoe’s arms. When the slightly chubby girl lunged at her, even someone as tall as Zoe almost lost her footing. She shot a glare at Sean.
Sean rubbed his forehead, fighting a headache. "There’s no way I can explain my way out of this, is there? Not a single hair on her head was touched. She just had a bit to drink. Let her sleep it off for a day and she’ll be fine."
Having found her, Zoe couldn’t really press the issue. Keeping her expression tight, she supported Autumn and led her out the door.
Simon frowned slightly and glanced over at Sean. "I need to talk to you. Come with me."
Sean let out an exaggerated, careless sigh. "Simon, do you still not believe me? I really didn’t touch her." He dreaded getting entangled with little girls like this more than anything.
Simon gave him a flat look and stepped outside. "It’s not about that."
Zoe helped Autumn into Simon’s car. The girl had drunk so much that she was completely wasted. She fell asleep the second her head hit the seat, becoming much more docile.
Simon didn’t say much. He simply ordered Shane Shaw to drive them to Crescent Peninsula.
Upon arriving at the neighborhood, Zoe called Claire Sutton down to help carry Autumn upstairs.
Simon stepped out of the car and lit a cigarette, his profile looking sharp and aristocratic in the dim light.
Behind him, Sean’s car pulled up. With a jacket slung casually over one shoulder and his hands tucked into his pockets, Sean strolled over. He looked up at the apartment building. He had driven the mother and daughter here when they first arrived in Kingsford, so he was quite familiar with the route.
"Simon, what’s so important that we have to talk like this?" Sean yawned, looking a bit sleepy.
Simon turned his head to look at him. His tone was casual but carried an undeniable weight. "Riley Lancaster. Do you know her?"
Sean narrowed his eyes and answered dismissively. "I’ve heard of her. Oh, wait—no. We’ve slept together."
Simon flicked his cigarette ash. "She’s Zoe’s stepsister."
Sean tilted his head. "Is she now? Well, she’s certainly nothing like our little sister-in-law. That woman is wild. I remember when she came onto me, she practically stripped right then and there."
Sean had never claimed to be a saint. In their social circle, romantic relationships were rarely clean slates; everyone had some history. Pushing thirty, what was the point of pretending to be innocent? He had grown up wild and unbound, too lazy for serious commitments, and no one had ever managed to make him settle down. Plenty of women begged to sleep with him, and whenever the mood struck, he didn’t mind a brief fling. Riley Lancaster simply happened to be one of them.
Simon lowered his eyes. "They don’t get along."
Sean immediately understood the implication. He flashed a frivolous smile. "Relax. I’d never actually value someone who cheapens herself like that. She just threw herself at me. I’ve practically forgotten she even exists."
It was the truth. Men had always been adept at separating sex from love, let alone someone like Sean, who had never given his heart to anyone since the day he was born.
Simon’s gaze finally cooled. His voice, edged with the roughness of smoke, grew grave. "That woman is deeply ambitious. If she causes any trouble, there’s no need to show her mercy."
Sean let out an ambiguous chuckle. "Simon, are you... protecting your wife?" As he spoke, he glanced at the lighter in Simon’s hand. "Still using that cheap knockoff?"
Simon gave him a cold, impassive sidelong glance. "I paid money for it. It’s real."
Sean was momentarily rendered speechless before giving a quick thumbs-up. "Alright, message received. You actually like it quite a bit."
Whether that "like" referred to the lighter or something else entirely was left unsaid.
"Don’t you have anything to say regarding Autumn?" Simon asked.
Sean straightened up and frowned. "She’s just an annoying brat. I really didn’t do anything to her."
Except for a fleeting moment of wicked desire.
He was honestly baffled. The girl was dressed so conservatively and lacked any real curves—had his lower half gone insane? What the hell was there to get excited about? Naturally, he wasn’t going to mention any of that to Simon.
Back upstairs, Zoe had just finished changing Autumn into her pajamas and washing her up. After tossing and turning for half an hour, she was out of breath and exhausted. She had barely rested for a moment when her phone rang. It was Simon.
She answered, her voice weak and tired. "Hello?"
Over the receiver, the man’s voice carried a slightly metallic timbre, sending a tingling warmth straight to her eardrums. "Come downstairs."
Surprised, Zoe blinked. "You haven’t left yet?" She had been dealing with her sister upstairs for ages.
A low, unreadable chuckle echoed from the other end. "Have you no conscience, Zoe? You haven’t even thanked me yet."
Her cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. It really did feel as if she had used him and immediately tossed him aside. "Okay, give me two minutes."
She hung up, washed her face, and finally went downstairs.
Just as she expected, the Maybach was still parked by the sidewalk. Simon leaned lazily against the hood, his head bowed slightly as he absently rubbed and toyed with a lighter. The night was as dark as ink. Clad in a black trench coat, his silhouette was stretched long by the moonlight. The scene was breathtakingly captivating, suffused with an impossibly handsome, cinematic aura.
Zoe paused in her tracks.
She couldn’t deny it. Simon’s face, his height, his build—they were one in a million. Even setting aside his wealth, power, and the endless stream of women throwing themselves at him, his raw physical appeal alone was enough to make women willingly go bankrupt just for a single night with him.
"Am I that good-looking?" He looked up, his gaze languid. Perhaps it was the gentle moonlight that made him seem softer, too.
Zoe snapped out of her daze and walked over without batting an eye. "You’re asking when you already know the answer. Aren’t you perfectly aware that you’re nothing but trouble for women?"
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk curved on Simon’s lips. "Is she settled in?"
Zoe rubbed her aching arms. "Yeah, she’s completely wasted. I don’t know what’s wrong with Sean, bullying a girl who isn’t even twenty."
Simon lowered his gaze to her aggrieved profile. "I’ve already taught him a lesson. If you’re not satisfied, we can call him back right now and beat him up."
Zoe gave him a strange look. "So you actually know how to joke." It made him seem a little more human.
Simon raised a brow, neither confirming nor denying it.
The two of them chatted casually, tossing words back and forth. The atmosphere was surprisingly harmonious, creating a calm, peaceful illusion that they were perfectly in tune with each other.
"Did you mean it?" His voice was deep, the question arriving without context.
Zoe looked up. "Hmm?"
Simon held her gaze. "When you called me your husband."
Zoe instantly curled her fingers into fists, her heart pounding furiously. In the dead of the silent night, her heartbeat was so loud it felt impossible to hide. She turned her head away, refusing to look at him. "What are you talking about..."
A warm hand gently pinched her cheek, turning her face back toward him. He bent down to match her height, his gaze impossibly deep and alluring. "Say it again. Consider it your way of thanking me."