CHAPTER 8: CHAPTER 8: TIMOTHY XAVIER, ARE YOU THINKING WITH YOUR DICK?

I’m really prepared to dig three feet deep on Monday to root out the traitor.

But unexpectedly, the next day, I received a call from the company’s top management: "Zoe, because of that news leak, investors have withdrawn their funds, and salaries can’t be paid. We’re really sorry, you don’t need to come to work today."

I stood there holding the phone, stunned for a long time.

Back then, right after college graduation, I accepted Timothy Xavier’s proposal and soon got pregnant.

Originally I was rejected by a news agency I could’ve joined. At that time, Timothy felt sorry for me and held me, saying, "Zoe, don’t be sad. How about I invest in them? That way no one will dare to reject our Zoe."

I didn’t agree, not wanting to be a networking insider.

Then I joined the entertainment media industry full of chaos, became editor-in-chief with top performance in three years, only to be fired for this reason.

The man who could throw money to get me my dream job back then is now the same one who makes me unemployed.

Love or not, it’s obviously clear.

The human heart can also become so unrecognizable.

I quickly walked out of the room, heading to the chapel.

Timothy Xavier was currently meditating in the chapel, his long, straight legs kneeling on a specially made cushion, his hands weaving Buddha Beads.

Once, I loved his cold, abstinent, detached demeanor.

Even because of his devotion to God, I followed so many strict rules without any complaints.

I walked up and directly grabbed the Buddha Beads from his hands, asking, "Is this how God teaches you to treat your wife? What right do you have to interfere with my job?"

Timothy’s chanting got interrupted, and he lightly frowned.

"Such a dishonorable job, it’s better not to have it. If you want money, I’ll give you."

Dishonorable?

I’ve endured nights writing news, traveled around for promotion—earned by my own hands—and he’s dismissing it with a single word.

I pinched my hand and said, "You’d better investigate the source of the leak! I won’t take the blame for this!"

Timothy lowered his head, saying, "Serena already doesn’t hold it against you. You should just let it go."

I refused: "Is it that she doesn’t want to hold it against me, or she doesn’t dare to? What? Afraid people will find out about her self-directed show? Timothy, are you out of your mind?"

Timothy furrowed his brow: "Zoe Ellison, you better figure out what this place is!"

At this moment, the ever-present Serena Sawyer appeared again.

First, she brought freshly brewed tea to Timothy, then turned to me and said, "Miss Ellison, Timothy doesn’t want you doing this job, also hoping you can have some dignity. Though I haven’t been in the entertainment industry long, it’s common to see paparazzi getting chased around, like rats."

Her lofty tone suggested that we aren’t in the same class.

I countered, "Have you seen mistresses getting their hair pulled and faces beaten? You act so dignified as a mistress while I earn my living with my own abilities. How’s that not dignified?"

Serena’s face turned pale, instantly brimming with tears.

At this moment, a little girl’s anxious cry came from outside: "Mom, mom, where are you? Doris woke up and can’t find mom!"

Serena hurried out, Timothy quickly got up, showing rare anxiety.

I watched silently, turned around and went back to the room, directly used my phone to send resumes using a job application app.

This Mrs. Xavier isn’t as interesting as Timothy’s disparaged job.

After sending out twenty or thirty resumes, I ordered my once-favorite steak, pizza, and seared foie gras takeout.

Three years, I haven’t touched these things for three whole years.

Yet I’ve had iron deficiency anemia since I was a child, and the doctor said other than medication, dietary supplements are the best.

So they recommended eating foods rich in iron, lean meat, duck blood, chicken liver.

To adhere to Timothy’s rules, my anemia got so severe I could faint just standing up—Timothy only let the doctor give me an IV, still not breaking his vegetarian principle.

But ultimately, what did I gain?

Just when the takeout arrived, lunch was ready in the villa.

The high-paid vegetarian chef Timothy hired was already in position, bringing dishes to the table himself, introducing those he painstakingly prepared all morning.

Seeing me return, he said to the chef, "Very professional. From now on, it’s up to you."

These words... were they purposely said for me to hear?

Noon seats today were exactly like last night’s.

Serena and Doris sitting on each side of Timothy Xavier, silently reminding me that I’m an outsider.

But this time, unlike yesterday, I didn’t sit next to that little girl just to eat. I calmly carried my items, walked to the far end of the dining table, and sat down.

No matter how much is on this table, I don’t want another bite.

With meat here, who’s going to stick to eating grass?

I’m not addicted to being a beast of burden!

Initially, Serena threw a stealthy provocative glance at me, meaning she’s already squeezed me out of the picture.

Until I slowly opened the packaging in front of them, revealing the aromatic steak, foie gras, and pizza.