Zoe was taken aback. She quickly unlocked her phone and searched the keywords. Sure enough, relevant articles popped up. Gavin Grayson had been ousted from Aegis Langley early this morning, and shortly after, summoned by the police for investigation.
The entire ordeal had unfolded with lightning speed, leaving no time for the situation to even ferment in the public eye.
Although Gavin’s conduct was deplorable, he was a figure of considerable prestige in this circle. Having deeply entrenched himself in the media industry for years, his power and network were unfathomable. Otherwise, the girls he had preyed upon wouldn’t have been left with no avenue for justice, nor would Director Carter have deliberately tried to curry favor with him.
How could someone like that be completely destroyed overnight?
TAP, TAP, TAP. Director Carter rapped her knuckles against the desk, her brows furrowed tightly. "It’s obvious someone is pulling strings behind the scenes. Wasn’t Mr. Hawthorne the only person Gavin offended yesterday?"
Zoe fell into deep thought. It was true. A mere glass of wine ruining his clothes was all it took for Gavin to fall. Given the sheer ruthlessness of the methods, it had to be Simon Hawthorne’s doing.
Frustration was written all over Director Carter’s face. "Great. All the time and energy we invested in Gavin has gone down the drain. Now we have to scout for a new strategic partner. Was Mr. Hawthorne just in a bad mood? Surely he wouldn’t send Gavin to jail over a spilled drink."
It was too bizarre. The way he ruthlessly drove his target to utter ruin was terrifying. Zoe remained silent. She wondered if it really had something to do with her. Was it because Gavin had untoward intentions toward her and had slapped her?
"What are you thinking about?" Director Carter interrupted Zoe’s speculations. "Mr. Hawthorne didn’t ask you anything yesterday, did he?"
Zoe snapped back to reality. "No."
Director Carter breathed a sigh of relief. She was just about to dismiss Zoe when she suddenly noticed something. Staring at Zoe’s neck, she asked, "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Zoe froze. "What?"
Seeing her bewilderment, Director Carter frowned. "Mind your image a bit. What’s the big idea, parading around the office with a hickey?"
Zoe immediately thought of last night’s events, her expression shifting slightly. "I’ll be careful."
Director Carter’s frown deepened. "Did he hit you, too?" She pointed to the Band-Aid just below Zoe’s collarbone.
Zoe was speechless.
Leaving the office, Zoe grabbed her purse and headed straight for the restroom. In the mirror, she saw a highly conspicuous hickey on her neck. She couldn’t help but recall how she felt last night. Eventually, she let out a self-deprecating laugh. She wondered if all men were like this. Always wanting to have their cake and eat it too. Even though he loved Stella Joyce, did he still desire her?
Zoe took a deep breath and covered the mark with some cushion foundation. Only then did she find a moment to dial Simon’s number. It rang about three times before he answered, his tone aloof. "Hello?"
Zoe clenched her fists. "I saw the news about Gavin Grayson. Did you do that?"
"Yes." Simon seemed to be signing documents on the other end, accompanied by the SCRATCH, SCRATCH of a fountain pen against paper.
Zoe’s heart softened slightly. "Was it because of... me?" She was surprised she even wanted an answer.
About two seconds passed before his extremely faint and indifferent voice came through the receiver. "If you strike a dog, you answer to its master, don’t you?"
Zoe stared at her own face in the mirror, watching the color drain from her cheeks. She hung up the phone without another word.
Her mood had taken a hit regardless. Perhaps Simon really did do it because of her, but only because she was his wife right now. Letting someone humiliate her was tantamount to a slap in his own face. It wasn’t because his heart ached for her; it was because he refused to let anyone overstep their bounds on his turf.
Zoe took a deep breath, trying hard to calm herself. She wanted to stand tall and proud too. But she couldn’t. She had to swallow this suffocating grievance. This was the path she had chosen, and she could only walk it to the bitter end. To get the outcome she desired—to get the money—she had to endure it all.
Over the next few days, the entire company was working around the clock.
The Hawthorne Group’s annual gala had been moved up to the end of this month. Coupled with the launch of their subsidiary jewelry brand’s new products, the event was to be held with grand pomp. Every single detail needed to be finalized, from media liaisons to promotional planning. The public relations department was tasked with clearing the way across all channels.
As for the police, they had released their final verdict. The drunkard had suffered severe injuries, but her actions were ruled as self-defense, absolving her of any liability. Whether or not this was due to Simon’s intervention... she had no way of knowing.
Perhaps because she had pulled several all-nighters and caught a chill, Zoe felt dizzy and groggy all day, her head throbbing as she forced herself to review the gala’s proposals. That was, until she saw one particular item on the agenda.
Stella Joyce was the spokesperson for the Hawthorne Group’s Ocean Blue series—the very new products being launched—so she was guaranteed to attend the gala. By then, the media would be swarming the venue, and public attention would be skyrocketing. The live broadcast of the event was destined to be exceptionally lively.
However, the proposal stated that on the day of the gala, Simon would make his entrance alongside Stella, and the two would accept interviews together. This would mark their first public appearance in the same frame at a formal occasion.
One didn’t need to guess how public opinion would explode. Countless people would be swooning over this touching display of true love.
Zoe rubbed her temples and asked Summer Thorne beside her, "Has this item been cleared with Mr. Hawthorne?"
Summer glanced at it and said, "This was actually a last-minute addition from Mr. Hawthorne’s side."
Zoe’s heart sank.
Summer clicked her tongue, unable to hide her envy. "It’s obvious this must be Stella’s idea. Mr. Hawthorne really caters to her every whim, doesn’t he? Just what kind of magic does she possess to win the favor of a bigshot like him? Is it her beauty?" Saying this, Summer looked over at Zoe. "But Stella isn’t even as pretty as you, Zoe! If you were in the entertainment industry, she might not even hold a candle to you!"
Summer wasn’t exaggerating. Not just in the PR department, but throughout this entire building, everyone knew Zoe Lancaster’s name. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say her beauty was a lethal weapon. Just walking down the street, she commanded second glances from everyone. She was so stunningly radiant that it was impossible to even feel jealous of her—she was simply on an entirely different echelon.
Zoe scoffed inwardly. She thought it was a pity that sometimes, beauty couldn’t buy love.
"Whether it was Stella’s idea or not, if Mr. Hawthorne added it at the last minute, it means he wants to elevate her status. Entering and being interviewed alongside him... what domestic celebrity has ever had such a precedent or honor? To be personally hoisted onto a pedestal by a top-tier capitalist titan feared by everyone in the industry." Zoe forced a smile, her mood relatively calm. Sometimes, one simply had to accept reality.
Summer pouted. "She really has it all. Mr. Hawthorne is so dedicated to protecting and paving the way for her. Looks like it really is true love."
Summer hadn’t meant anything by it, but the words hit their mark. Every syllable stabbed right into Zoe’s sore spot.
She closed the proposal, shutting her eyes to soothe her splitting headache. She figured it made sense. Simon truly loved Stella. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dropped the act of playing the part of a cordial married couple with her, choosing instead to publicly parade around with Stella. He clearly didn’t care about Zoe’s dignity or feelings in the slightest.
To make matters worse, she was one of the executives in charge of the gala. Even if she wanted to avoid watching them flaunt their affection, she couldn’t. It was truly ironic.
The lawful wife had to act like a creature confined to the shadows, unfit for the light of day, peeking and seething with jealousy while the masses sang praises of her husband’s romance with another woman.