CHAPTER 139: CHAPTER 139: I JUST WANT TO STEAL YOUR WIFE! SO WHAT?

Vera nodded and slipped away first.

At this moment, Timothy Xavier had already walked up to me.

He seemed to have forgotten yesterday’s argument at the Sinclair Family’s house, returning to that cold, refined persona he used to have, and said to me, "What a coincidence, you’re here to talk business too?"

"Yes, and about the same thing as you."

I didn’t avoid the topic at all, looking at him with a mocking expression.

Timothy lowered his gaze and explained to me, "Zoe, I made it clear to my mom and Serena that very day—I’m not going to marry Serena. But I do owe her too much. I came over today to find someone to handle her situation, just to help her out."

"Who you help has nothing to do with me. There’s no need to explain."

I looked at him calmly and said, "Could you step aside? I need to go out."

Timothy, however, blocked my way, looking at me deeply. "I know I hurt you deeply, but Zoe, it wasn’t until I almost lost you that I realized just how much I can’t let you go. I need you so much."

I let out a short laugh, both helpless and resolute. "But I don’t need you anymore."

There seemed to be a repressed pain in Timothy’s eyes as he asked, "What do I have to do for you to forgive me?"

"Divorce me. Let’s go to the civil affairs office together and settle it, give each other some dignity."

When I finished, Timothy’s gaze turned cold. "Anything but that—I’ll agree to anything else."

I nodded. "Fine. Then I’ll see you in court. This time, there won’t be any more accidents. I’ll be there on time."

"There won’t be another hearing."

Timothy looked at me, his voice low. "Because I’ve already withdrawn the divorce lawsuit. On your side, you’ll have to wait a few more months before you can submit it again. Zoe, I won’t let Julian Sinclair take my woman. You’re my wife, always!"

I didn’t expect him to withdraw the lawsuit.

Although I was angry, I no longer wanted to waste any emotion on him—not even anger.

"Psychopath!"

I spat out the word and turned to leave without a hint of nostalgia.

...

Back at the Sinclair Family’s home, the villa was quiet; Julian Sinclair still hadn’t come back.

The old lady was sitting on the sofa in the living room, wearing reading glasses and holding her tablet, reading a novel.

I walked up to her quietly and asked, "Grandma, where are Doris and Sharon?"

"They’re both sound asleep."

The old lady looked up at me, dissatisfaction written all over her face. "What’s wrong with Julian? You just went through so much, and look at him—rushing you back to work! And letting you work overtime so late on your first day back. Aren’t you exhausted?"

I smiled to reassure her. "Grandma, he’s just worried I’ll let my mind wander if I’m idle, so he wants me to stay busy and distracted. Besides, it wasn’t overtime—I went out to dinner with a friend tonight and talked about the adaptation of my novel."

"Oh? I was just about to ask about that!" The old lady’s eyes lit up, and she put down her tablet. "I’ve finished your novel—I can’t wait for the drama to air! Who knows when it’ll premiere? As for Serena, all she does is hype her show online all day—so annoying."

I lifted the corners of my lips, tone bland but tinged with certainty. "She probably won’t get her wish. I just talked about this with a friend over dinner. Her show was axed by the broadcasting authority—didn’t even make it to the review stage."

"Really?" The old lady perked up immediately. "Oh my, finally some justice! That kind of woman doesn’t deserve to prance about onscreen—she’s just revolting to watch!"

Before she finished the sentence, footsteps sounded from the entryway—it was Julian Sinclair returning.

The old lady and I quickly stood up to greet him, concerned about his grandmother’s condition.

Julian looked a bit tired, but nowhere near as tense as yesterday.

He said, "Her life’s stable for now. If she makes it through the next few dangerous days, she should pull through."

We both breathed a sigh of relief.

Julian looked at the old lady, reminding her, "Grandma, it’s almost ten. You’re not young anymore—don’t stay up late playing on your phone. Go get some rest."

The old lady looked a little embarrassed, then smiled knowingly. "Alright, I’ll head to my room. You two talk!"

Watching her leave, my cheeks grew warm, and I turned to ask Julian, "Have you eaten?"

He let out a soft sigh, sitting on the sofa, his voice weary. "No. Couldn’t eat during the day. But now that you ask, I am a bit hungry."

"Then I’ll go make you a midnight snack—what do you want?"

I turned to head to the kitchen, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist.

Thrown off balance, I fell straight into his arms.

Julian circled my waist, looking at me intently. "I don’t want you to be a housekeeper—I can make it myself, or have the housekeepers do it."

"But I want to do these things for you—willingly." I couldn’t help but laugh.

Still, he wouldn’t let me, raising his hand to summon a servant to prepare a late-night snack.

With my current status, it felt a bit awkward; I wasn’t used to being seen this close with him.

Just as I tried to get up, his arm tightened around my waist.

"Don’t go. Sit with me for a while."

His voice was low and husky. His chin, rough with stubble, rested lightly in the curve of my neck, his warm breath brushing my skin.

My heart softened; I stopped resisting and let him hold me from behind.

Thinking of Serena’s situation, I asked, "Was it you who got Serena’s show axed by the authorities?"

Julian closed his eyes, nuzzling into my neck, and replied, matter-of-factly: "Just happened to know someone there, so I brought it up. Consider it a gift—do you like it?"

So, it really was him.

I curled the corners of my mouth in a playful tone. "Having a big tree to lean on does feel nice."

"That’s nothing."

He chuckled softly, his tone determined. "This is just the first step. Whatever they owe you, I’ll help you get it back."

A wave of warmth rose in my heart, but I still hadn’t fully accepted his help. "I want to try handling my troubles myself. You have plenty on your plate."

After all, he had to manage the Sinclair Group, run his own law firm, and now deal with his grandmother’s critical illness.

He was swamped, so I hadn’t even thought about telling him that Timothy withdrew his lawsuit.

Just then, there was a small shriek from the staircase—"Ah!"

I froze, jumping up from Julian’s embrace, my face burning red.

Julian’s expression changed instantly; he let go instinctively.

I saw Doris in pink pajamas, hair messy from sleep, rubbing sleepy eyes as she stood on the stairs.

Her little brows furrowed. "Mommy, why are you hugging Uncle Sinclair?"

"Doris!" I quickly walked over, forcing myself calm as I patted her head. "Why are you downstairs? Weren’t you asleep already?"

"I’m hungry..." Doris pouted, looking up at me innocently, her voice still soft and drowsy. "Mommy, I want a cookie."

Julian stood up as well, his gaze landing on Doris—he looked at her long and hard, his expression complicated.

He didn’t say anything, just turned to me. "Have the servants bring the snacks to my room."

And with that, he turned and walked up the stairs, his back radiating distance.

Doris watched him, her little face full of confusion. She tugged at my clothes. "Mommy, is Uncle Sinclair angry? Why did he hug you? My teacher says girls can’t let boys hug them casually—it’s not right."

Being caught by my daughter like this was embarrassing. All I could say was, "Your teacher is right. But you’ll understand some things when you grow up."

I took Doris to get cookies and reminded her to brush her teeth afterward.

The little girl’s self-care skills were great, thanks to Sharon—things like brushing her teeth and washing up were no longer my concern.

After getting cookies, she happily trotted upstairs on her short little legs.

I couldn’t help but worry about the look Julian gave just now.

Because I also noticed the way he looked at Doris—cold, completely unlike the patience and tenderness he showed Sharon.

Did he dislike Doris?

At that moment, the servant had finished preparing the midnight snack to bring over.

"I’ll take it."

I took the platter and headed to Julian’s room.

Both hands were occupied, so I could only nudge the door open with my toe.

When the door opened, the first thing I saw was a broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted back.

Julian was changing, his bronzed skin taut over smooth, defined muscles—strength in every inch.

My heartbeat skipped half a beat.

Even back when I lived with him at the Orchid Court in Silverstream, we’d kept to separate rooms—always keeping our boundaries.

So I’d never actually seen Julian like this before.

Honestly, with that build and appearance, you could hardly tell he was that much older than me.

Only when you saw how he handled things could you sense he was a man who’d spent far too long in the business world.

I stood awkwardly at the door, wanting to leave, but Julian noticed me.

He calmly slipped on a silver-gray pajama top and said blandly, "Come in. Since you’ve already seen it, why leave now?"

I bit the bullet and went in, setting the tray on the coffee table.

"Thank you."

He thanked me, sat down, and started eating.

Watching him eat in silence, I thought of how he’d just reacted to Doris. Unable to stop myself, I tried to sound him out: "Doris...she’s just like Sharon—she has her own strengths. Maybe you just aren’t familiar with her yet. Usually she’s..."

"Can we not talk about this?"

I didn’t even finish before Julian cut me off.

He didn’t look up, his tone calm but leaving no room for negotiation.

The words died in my mouth, my doubts only growing.

He was always so patient and gentle with Sharon. Why did he treat Doris with such innate distance?

Is it because Doris’s father is Timothy Xavier?

Since he didn’t want to discuss it, I couldn’t push further.

I got up. "Then I’ll go. Eat and rest early."

"Mm."

He only responded lightly, his gaze still on the tray, his tone frosted over.

I felt really disappointed.

I dared not imagine how Doris and Julian would get along after my divorce with Timothy.

Or should I just give Doris back to Timothy, and let her live with him and Serena?

Back in my room, I’d just finished my shower when it was already late.

Vera messaged me, telling me to check X.

Sure enough, she’d picked the same moment Serena had exposed Raina Ainsworth, and revealed Serena’s new show was not going to air—with just as much fanfare.

She made it clear—the reason it won’t air is that Serena has been officially blacklisted as a disgraced celebrity.

This means, in the future, no investor or film production would dare use Serena again.

...

At the same time, Serena’s bedroom was a wreck.

Her exquisite makeup had been twisted by rage.

When she’d first learned from her agent that Marriage Heart had been shot down by the authorities that afternoon, she’d barely held it together, planning with her team to push stories blaming "sudden changes in review standards" to garner sympathy.

But before they could finalize anything, the internet had already exploded—someone dredged up her old official scandals, leaving her not a shred of cover.

"Bang!"

The phone smashed against the mirror, both glass and screen shattering instantly.

Her nails dug into her palm as she ground out through clenched teeth, "Zoe Ellison—it must be Zoe Ellison! That bitch! Nothing makes her happier than seeing me ruined!"

Staggering, she picked up her backup phone and opened X. The comments section was already chaotic.

Though her loyal fans tried to defend her: "Serena’s just misunderstood! Why should she be destroyed for this?"

But more were the hired trolls Vera had arranged.

"Disgraced actors should be blacklisted. What’s there to defend?"

"Always playing the victim! Today Mom’s husband is stolen, tomorrow she’s the other woman; miscarriages, crying live to get attention—queen of drama!"

"The most disgusting thing is her moronic fans—blind, heartless, attacking everyone!"

In just a few minutes, the comments were split into two clear camps.

Those fed up with Serena and her die-hard fans were cursing each other out online, filth filling the screen, and all her dirt was aired out again and again.

Serena, trembling with rage at the cutting comments, had no way to fight back except to call Timothy Xavier.

Thankfully, Timothy still felt guilty toward her—even if he wouldn’t marry her, he wouldn’t ignore her in trouble.

"I’ve called in some favors to handle the broadcasting authorities. As for the online comments, I’m arranging cleanup," Timothy reassured her. "Even if you are blacklisted, I’ll make sure you have enough money for a lifetime of comfort."

Serena sobbed, "Timothy, I don’t want money, I want you. I’m really scared now. Miss Ellison is vicious—why is she doing this to me? Timothy, I miss you. Can you come be with me, please?"

Timothy was silent for a moment. "Sorry, Serena. I don’t want to string Zoe along and disappoint her again. She’s doing this because of me. I’ll take responsibility for you, but I can’t marry you, and I can’t let Zoe keep misunderstanding us."

Serena never expected Timothy would remain unmoved after all she’d been through.

Before, if she cried or caused a scene, Timothy would always cave in.

Now she suddenly regretted treating Doris the way she had. If that child were around, she’d have had a way to get her father to come.

Even for his daughter’s sake, Timothy never would have refused to see her like this.

...

For days, Timothy Xavier didn’t show up.

He did help Serena calm the online storm, and sent her a check for fifty million through his assistant. But Serena still felt dissatisfied—how could that ever be enough?

She wanted more than a measly fifty million!

She wanted the status of Mrs. Xavier—once she had that, half the Xavier Group would be hers. How could she settle for such a small amount?

With no other choice, she went to plead with Sophia Kendall, crying about how Zoe Ellison had ruined her.

But by now, Sophia was no longer as fond of Serena as before.

After all, she had once considered Serena for her fame, and later because Serena was pregnant with Timothy’s child.

Now, Serena’s reputation was in tatters, everyone was cursing her, and her grandson was gone too.

She now saw Serena as unworthy of Timothy.

But after having doted on her for so long, with Serena calling her "Mom" so affectionately, Sophia felt awkward suddenly turning her back on her.

Just then, the hospital called—Diana Caldwell had woken up.

She hurried to find an excuse. "Serena, I need to get to the hospital—Timothy’s grandma is awake. If you want to talk, wait until I’m back!"

Serena, not noticing Diana’s distancing, quickly said, "Mom, will Timothy come to the hospital too? If you see him, please talk to him for me!"

Sophia Kendall, already on her way out, replied perfunctorily, "Sure, I will."

...

At the hospital.

Diana Caldwell had been moved out of the ICU.

Reclining in bed, her husband, children, and grandchildren gathered around. For the first time, she felt a strong will to live—wanting to spend more time with these people who mattered so much.

Byron Kendall’s eyes were red as he watched his wife awaken—at his age, he was close to tears.

Julian Sinclair looked much more relaxed than before, but stood quietly to the side, outwardly calm; as if he hadn’t been rushing to find specialists to save his mother just days ago.

Sophia Kendall was the same.

She knelt by Diana’s bedside, looking pitiful. "Mom, thank goodness you’re better. I was worried sick. I even went to the Xavier Manor’s prayer room and knelt all night for your safety. My legs still ache!"

She rubbed her knees as she spoke, all the while glancing at Diana’s face.

As long as Diana lived and protected her, Julian couldn’t touch her.

Diana looked both moved and surprised.

After all, this daughter seldom acted so attentive.

Diana gave a weak smile, gratified. "Sophia, I know you’re tough on the outside, soft on the inside. Sorry for making you worry."

Julian’s brow imperceptibly furrowed at this, his eyes full of disdain as he glanced at Sophia.

All her showy concern was, to Julian, utterly pathetic.

Timothy Xavier, standing beside his mother, just felt embarrassed. He knew her too well—how much of what she just said was real? He knew all too well.

Because of this, he found Sophia more clownish than ever.

Sophia wanted to keep milking Diana’s sympathy, but Timothy interrupted: "Grandma, since you’ve pulled through, you should really focus on resting from now on. Don’t worry about our business."

Diana paused, her gaze shifting to Julian, suddenly remembering, and asked, "Julian, what’s going on between you and Zoe, exactly?"

Julian thought about how to handle his mother—how not to upset her, but still prepare her for the fact he and Zoe Ellison would end up together sooner or later.

At that moment, Timothy interjected, "Grandma, don’t listen to my mom’s nonsense! Zoe was kidnapped before, thankfully uncle saved her in time. I actually owe uncle for that!"

"Zoe was kidnapped?"

Diana sat up straighter, alarmed. "Is she alright now? Was she hurt?"

Julian replied blandly, "She’s fine now."

Diana looked remorseful. "Julian, was that why you suddenly left when you were abroad? Because Zoe was kidnapped? You should’ve told me sooner! I even tried to stop you that day—my fault..."

Julian said lightly, "It’s all in the past. Don’t blame yourself. Focus on getting better."

But Diana still looked worried. "You were right to save Zoe. But could you tell me why you two were sightseeing in Silverstream, even giving interviews—is there something between you?"

Julian’s eyes went instantly sharp, fixing straight onto Sophia.

Under that look, Sophia panicked, her gaze darting everywhere, guilt written all over her face.

Timothy sighed. "Grandma, I know about it. Zoe wanted a few days off in Silverstream after she was rescued. I was busy then, but uncle happened to be there and ran into her. And didn’t he make it clear in the interview? He and Zoe are just friends."

Only then did Diana genuinely relax.

After all, the last few times Timothy and Julian had met at the Kendall Family house, the tension was palpable.

But now Timothy clarified things for Julian—it seemed Sophia had been overthinking things.

She trusted her son would never covet his nephew’s wife—never!

Diana was still weak and soon fell asleep from exhaustion.

Julian glanced at Timothy and said quietly, "Come outside with me."

With that, he turned and walked out.

Timothy followed, closing the door behind him.

At the end of the hallway, Julian stood silent and stern, staring at the gloomy sky outside. "You think what you just said to my mom will change anything?"

Timothy’s voice was tight with anger. "I already gave you face in front of grandma—now you need to stop! Zoe is my wife. I’m not divorcing her. I’ve withdrawn the lawsuit!"

He thought withdrawing the divorce suit would shut Julian up and save a marriage already riddled with holes.

Julian sneered, icy sarcasm spilling from his lips and eyes. "She was kidnapped, and when the kidnappers threatened her life, did you remember she was your wife? You handed away the child she bore you after ten months’ pregnancy, kept your first love hidden in Westmere for four years—did you ever think of her as your wife?"

Shock flickered across Timothy’s face. He clenched his fists, staring at Julian. "She told you all that?"

"Afraid of people repeating what you actually did?"

Julian took a step forward. Though they were the same height, he completely dominated Timothy with his presence. "You think withdrawing the suit leaves me helpless? Listen well—this divorce, you’ll go through with it whether you want to or not!"

Seeing the look of grim determination on Julian’s face, Timothy was so angry that he actually laughed. "Julian Sinclair, you’ve had your eyes on my woman all along, haven’t you? In the end, you just want to steal my wife!"

Julian chuckled, his smile shockingly open and unapologetic, as if he were stating the most ordinary truth.

He met Timothy’s furious gaze and said clearly, "Yes, I want to steal your wife. You gave me the chance—don’t blame others for taking it."

With that, he no longer glanced at Timothy, turning straight for the elevator.

Timothy stood frozen in place, staring dumbfounded at Julian’s back, unable to believe his ears.

To be able to say something so shameless and be so calm about it—unbelievable!