Zoe massaged her aching temples, her tone somewhat self-deprecating. "If I can’t win his love, then I’ll win his sympathy. Some men hate it when the women who love them try to control them, and they hate it when women cry and throw tantrums over them. Yet, they treasure other people’s girlfriends, loving women who are sensible, gentle, considerate, and give them freedom.
"Worst comes to worst, I’ll just play the role of the undemanding wife who’s willing to step aside. If I stand on the moral high ground and forgive him, how could Simon not feel a shred of guilt? When it’s time to divorce, he’ll definitely compensate me. It wouldn’t even make sense if he didn’t."
Crystal was stunned for a long time before she finally squeezed out, "Badass! You totally nailed the reverse gaslighting!"
Her train of thought was clear now, but the only flaw in her plan was what had happened last night. She had made one wrong move, and Simon Hawthorne had caught her red-handed. If he actually investigated last night’s events... how could she possibly claim the moral high ground then?
Dwelling on this unsolvable problem only gave her a headache. Fortunately, Simon was a busy man and likely wouldn’t have the time to overthink her affairs.
Her mind a jumbled mess, Zoe flopped onto the sofa. "Let’s leave it at that for now. I’m still exhausted from yesterday, so I’m going to get some rest."
Hanging up the phone, Zoe buried her face into the cushions and closed her eyes. But sleep eluded her. A ball of frustration burned in her chest. If it weren’t for that momentary lapse in judgment last night, her perfect divorce plan wouldn’t have a single flaw!
She bolted upright and dug out the number of the gigolo she had taken from the hotel. As if to vent her frustration, she fired off a text message to the number: [What’s your bank account? I’ll wire you five hundred. Your skills are terrible, and you’re too small down there. This is all you’re worth!]
In truth, she hardly remembered anything from last night. She had absolutely no idea about his so-called size or skills. All she could recall was her calf cramping up halfway through before she passed out from sheer exhaustion. After that, her memory was completely blank.
Hitting "send" finally made Zoe feel a little better. However, when it came to Simon... she needed to figure out a plan.
Dusk fell.
Winter had already descended upon Kingsford, bringing with it a biting, bone-chilling wind.
At the DK. Golf Club, Sean Sheffield swung his club with a crisp, practiced motion. The ball soared through the air. He watched it sink perfectly into the hole before turning around with a satisfied smirk to look at Simon Hawthorne, who was seated in a chair behind him.
Simon had just finished meeting with the branch company’s executives, getting a rough grasp of the internal situation over the past two years. The board of directors had splintered into factions, leaving the corporate environment thoroughly toxic.
"Your old man’s mistress-turned-wife has been stirring up quite the storm these past few years," Sean teased, his tone unreadable. "Ever since she popped out a son, her appetite has only grown. She’s even bold enough to start meddling with the board of directors now."
Simon took a nonchalant sip of his tea. "Unchecked greed will eventually be her undoing," he replied coolly.
Sean raised an eyebrow. "So, what’s your play?"
Simon glanced at him. "What are you trying to say?"
Sean burst into laughter. "That delicate little wife of yours at home—if it weren’t for your old man’s new wife playing matchmaker, she never would’ve made it through the Hawthorne family’s doors. Who knows if those two are secretly in cahoots? You can never be too careful."
Sean knew a thing or two about the Hawthorne family’s internal drama. Back when Simon’s grandfather was gravely ill, that woman had been the one to bring in a fortune teller. She orchestrated things behind the scenes, pushing Simon to marry into a lesser family under the guise of "bringing good luck" for the old man’s health. In reality, she just wanted to prevent Simon from marrying a woman with powerful backing. By doing so, she could splinter his absolute control over the Hawthorne family. In the world of high society, where interests trumped all, every marriage was a stepping stone. True love was nothing but a fairy tale.
Simon lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable. He wondered how innocent his wife truly was.
BUZZ—
His phone buzzed on the table. Simon glanced down at the screen. Sean happened to catch a glimpse of it as well.
[What’s your bank account? I’ll wire you five hundred. Your skills are terrible, and you’re too small down there. This is all you’re worth!]
Seeing the message, Sean nearly did a spit-take with his drink. Shocked by the sender’s sheer audacity, he immediately broke into a gloating grin. "Well, would you look at that! Since when did the great Mr. Hawthorne moonlight as a gigolo? What’s your going rate? Want me to bring some friends over to support your business?"
Simon furrowed his brows slightly. A cryptic, chilling smirk touched his thin lips.
Zoe Lancaster...
He had no idea that his Mrs. Hawthorne had such a wild side to her!
Sean was practically in awe of the woman who had sent that text. It wasn’t every day he got to see Simon knocked down a peg. He couldn’t resist asking, "Is that the woman who relentlessly threw herself at you yesterday? Did she actually mistake you for a gigolo? Damn, treating Mr. Hawthorne like a rent-a-boy? How many gold mines does her family own for her to have the guts to buy your services?"
She might have the cash to hire him, but did she have the life expectancy to survive it?
And... she even insulted Simon’s performance in bed? This was enough material for Sean to mock him for the rest of his life. He could be nailed into his coffin and still rise from the dead just to laugh at him one more time.
Ignoring Sean’s gossiping, Simon grabbed his phone and stood up to leave. His expression remained a mask of cool indifference, completely unreadable.
"Where are you going?" Sean called out. "Are we done playing?"
Simon threw back a single sentence over his shoulder. "Going to collect my fee."
Sean stared after him, utterly bewildered.
Meanwhile, Zoe had been pushed to her absolute limits the night before. Belatedly, a deep, aching soreness had settled into her bones. She ended up sleeping all the way until past nine in the evening. Dragging herself out of bed, she checked her phone, only to find no reply from the gigolo.
"Is five hundred bucks not real money? How arrogant," Zoe muttered, curling her lips. To be able to sleep with a beauty like her, that gigolo’s ancestors must have accrued some serious good karma. Who did he think he was, putting on airs? If he didn’t want the money, it just meant more savings for her.
Brushing the matter aside, she thought nothing more of it. But her peace was short-lived. A moment later, she received a call from Secretary Linden.
"Mrs. Hawthorne, I am downstairs," he announced. "Mr. Hawthorne is waiting for you at The Imperial Residence."
Zoe instantly went on high alert, probing cautiously, "He wants to see me? Is something wrong?"
"You’ll find out when you arrive, ma’am," Secretary Linden replied with a polite smile.
Doubt and suspicion gnawed at Zoe. She had assumed that since she managed to fool Simon earlier today, he wouldn’t waste any more of his energy on her for a while. Since when did he have so much free time? Since Secretary Linden was already waiting downstairs, she had no room to refuse. She dawdled for half an hour before finally making her way down.
The Imperial Residence was the most exclusive and expensive neighborhood in Kingsford, bar none. Simon’s private estate was located here. As for her, the only time she had ever set foot in The Imperial Residence was the night they got their marriage certificate—the very same night he had ruthlessly rejected her.
Upon arriving, Zoe stepped out of the car. Unable to hold back, she asked, "Mr. Hawthorne isn’t in a bad mood today, is he?" Specifically, the kind of bad mood that came from being cuckolded. This wasn’t some sort of elaborate trap because he had caught onto her lies, was it?
Secretary Linden maintained his perfectly professional smile. "Mr. Hawthorne simply misses you, ma’am."
"Oh? Did he and Stella Joyce break up?"
Secretary Linden fell silent. "You’re joking, ma’am," he finally said. "Mr. Hawthorne is in the study. Please follow me."
Realizing she wasn’t going to pry any information out of him, Zoe grumbled inwardly. He was exactly like his boss—frustratingly difficult to deal with. Secretary Linden led Zoe inside and promptly took his leave.
Zoe was practically on pins and needles. She couldn’t get a read on Simon’s attitude. Considering how ruthlessly he had rejected her in the past, there was zero chance tonight was meant to be a sweet, passionate reunion.
"What are you thinking about?"
A man’s deep, frosty voice suddenly echoed from behind her, snapping her out of her daze. Zoe’s hair stood on end. She spun around, meeting Simon’s indifferent gaze. He was still dressed in his crisp shirt and tailored trousers, his tall, lean frame exuding a powerful, magnetic appeal. Paired with the gold-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, he looked every bit the dangerously refined villain.
"Did you do something to feel guilty about? Why so jumpy?" Simon’s tone was flat, but each word felt like a bomb dropping directly onto Zoe’s chest.
Forcing down her rising panic, Zoe offered him a sweet smile. "I was just wondering how long you’d be staying this time. When are you heading back to Kaelan?"
The corners of Simon’s lips curled up slightly. "Do you want me to leave?"
Zoe had already mentally rehearsed her script before coming. No matter what Simon was plotting, she was determined to play the role of his sensible, deeply devoted wife to the very end. Though she desperately wanted him to pack his bags and get the hell back to Kaelan immediately, she put on a look of sheer reluctance. "How could I? You’ve been away for so long, and I’ve missed you so terribly. Of course, I hope you can stay in the country. But, of course, if you..."
"Alright then."