“Wow!
Zoe, your godbrother really kept his word.
The manager has already settled our wages, and it’s double!
I’ll transfer it to you right now.”
“There’s no rush.
Be careful on your way back,” Zoe Quinn said, waving her hand.
She seemed a bit distracted.
“See you tomorrow.”
After seeing Daisy Donovan off, Zoe walked into her residential complex alone.
Immediately, her phone let out a DING with a notification.
She didn’t even need to look to know it was the transfer from Daisy.
Back home, her adoptive parents were already asleep.
Zoe closed her bedroom door, leaned her back against the wooden panel, and slowly slid down to sit on the floor.
Finally, she was all alone.
The nerves that had been strung tight all night suddenly relaxed, and the emotions she had forcibly suppressed rushed over her like a tidal wave.
She hugged her knees and buried her face in the crook of her arms.
Big Hooligan—this nickname, this person, had once been the brightest light of her youth, and also the deepest wound she had carried for the past three years.
Tonight, he said that leaving without saying goodbye was his fault.
He said that he would miss her whether they saw each other or not.
He said that if he couldn’t be her husband, he could at least be her godbrother.
She had never seen Silas Sutton act so humble.
Zoe raised her head, her eyes rimmed with red.
She walked to the window and gazed at the night view of the complex.
There were tens of thousands of lights shining from the homes outside, yet not a single one was lit for her.
She hadn’t expected to run into Silas tonight.
She expected even less that he would save her in that private room at the club and make such a humble request.
Pulling her phone from her pocket, Zoe scrolled through her contacts, her fingertip finally stopping on one name: Big Hooligan.
Ever since she arrived at her new home and her adoptive parents bought her this phone, this number had remained in her contacts.
Even though it hadn’t connected the countless times she tried calling, she kept it—not out of hope, but because it was the only light in her entire youth that truly belonged to her.
Even if that light had eventually gone out, she couldn’t bear to erase the traces of its existence.
Zoe’s finger hovered over the call button, hesitating.
Finally, she turned off the screen, walked over to her bed, and lay down, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.
Silas Sutton’s Bentley pulled into the parking garage of his luxurious villa.
Upon entering the house, he shrugged off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and slumped into a chair.
He took out his phone and opened the messaging app, watching the cursor blink in the text box.
He wanted to send something, even if it was just a simple “Did you get home safe?” But after a second thought, he locked the screen.
He was her “godbrother” now.
This status gave him an excuse to be near her, but it also drew a clear boundary.
Otherwise, he would only cause her panic and annoyance.
Silas walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey.
The amber liquid swirled in the glass, and the ice cubes collided with a crisp CLINK.
Holding his drink, his mind replayed every scene from tonight on an endless loop.
The way she looked in her panic, the slight tremble of her eyelashes when she nodded and agreed to be his sister, the resolute silhouette of her back as she turned and fled.
And that sentence: “I have a fiancé, and I love him very much.” Every image and every word served as a stark reminder that anything between them was impossible now.
Silas tilted his head back and downed the drink in one gulp.
The fiery liquid burned his throat, but it couldn’t suppress the emotions churning in his heart.
He set the glass down, intending to take a shower and rest.
Yet, just as he turned around, a woman in a slip nightgown opened the door and walked right in.
It was Celia Shelby—the designer-clad heiress of the Shelby Family who had appeared by the garden on his grandmother’s arm when he left the house yesterday.
She pushed the door open so naturally, as if this bedroom were her own territory.
The door gently clicked shut behind her.
Silas’s deep eyes narrowed, instantly going on high alert the moment he saw her.
“How did you get in here?
And why are you in my house?” His voice was low, laced with lingering intoxication and obvious anger.
Celia acted as if she hadn’t heard him, stepping closer in her stiletto heels.
She wore nothing but a black lace slip nightgown.
The pitifully sparse, gossamer-thin fabric barely covered her modesty, and the semi-transparent design at the waist faintly outlined her voluptuous curves.
Sweeping her long hair over her shoulder, she strolled in slowly like a lithe cat, a confident, determined smile playing on her red lips.
“Why are you being so fierce, Silas?” Her voice was cloyingly sweet.
“Old Mrs.
Sutton is the one who let me move in.
She told me to spend more time with you so we can build a relationship.”
“Get out,” Silas said, his face expressionless, his tone as cold and hard as iron.
Celia’s smile deepened.
Stopping just a step away from him, she raised her hand, extending her manicured fingers straight toward his chin.
“Silas, why must you be so unromantic?
My family background isn’t bad.
An alliance between our two families would bring nothing but benefits to Cosmos.
Besides…” She deliberately dragged out her words, her fingers inches away from brushing his skin.
“Look at my face and my figure.
How am I not good enough for you?”
Silas abruptly seized her wrist with a grip so forceful that Celia instantly cried out in pain.
His gaze was sharp.
Something was wrong!
This wasn’t the effect of the alcohol.
He had drunk a lot at the dinner banquet and the club tonight, and he had just downed a glass of whiskey, but with his alcohol tolerance, it was absolutely impossible for him to feel this groggy.
Moreover, this grogginess felt strange.
His throat tightened with dryness, and a wave of heat—one familiar to any man—rose from deep within his body.
His blood seemed to boil in his veins, and even a certain place in his lower abdomen was exhibiting a very specific physiological response.
“You…” Silas realized it instantly.
His slightly dazed eyes sharpened like a blade.
“You have a lot of nerve, daring to drug me.”
As it turned out, Old Mrs.
Sutton had always been anxious about her thirty-year-old grandson’s marriage.
However, when she introduced them yesterday, Silas hadn’t shown the slightest interest in Celia.
Celia was smart.
She had done her research and learned that after Silas’s parents passed away, his grandmother had single-handedly managed the family business while raising him.
Although Silas was involved in the underworld, he was extremely devoted to his grandmother.
Celia figured that if she wanted to become the mistress of the Sutton Family, winning over Old Mrs.
Sutton was the key to success.
So, during the two days Silas hadn’t returned home, she had put immense effort into buttering up the elderly woman.
She even brazenly persuaded Old Mrs.
Sutton to let her move into the Sutton estate, under the guise that it would give her more opportunities to interact with Silas and cultivate their feelings.
Silas had been fiercely independent since childhood.
Old Mrs.
Sutton knew she couldn’t dictate his marriage, but she thought Celia’s proposal was a good approach.
What if her grandson and Celia really did fall in love over time?
But how could Old Mrs.
Sutton have known Celia’s true intentions?
Today, on her very first day living there, Celia had used the excuse of familiarizing herself with the environment to roam freely around the Sutton villa.
With Old Mrs.
Sutton’s prior notice, she was officially an honored guest in the house, so the servants hadn’t paid her much mind.
Usually, there were no outsiders in the house, and with bodyguards standing watch outside, nobody had the habit of locking their doors.
A grown man like Silas certainly never bothered locking his bedroom door to sleep.
Consequently, this had given Celia the perfect opportunity.
Before Silas came home, she had found a moment when no one was watching to slip into his bedroom and drug the opened liquor bottle.
She knew that based on Silas’s attitude toward her yesterday, becoming Mrs.
Sutton would be rather difficult.
Unwilling to wait around, she had decided to use some strong medicine to force a quick and decisive victory.