CHAPTER 80: CHAPTER 80: HE HOLDS TIMOTHY XAVIER’S WEAKNESS IN HIS HANDS

I suppress the heaviness in my chest and say, "The kind of people Katherine Sheldon and Ethan Xavier are is no longer important. Anyway, you have already made them leave the country. From now on, mountains and rivers apart, they can’t threaten you anymore."

Mr. Xavier’s gaze falls on my face, with a hint of imperceptible sharpness: "I made them leave, are you sad?"

A surge of anger rises within me, and I coldly look at him: "Do you care whether I’m sad or not? When you betrayed our marriage, when you announced your relationship with Serena Sawyer, when you left me behind last night, why didn’t you ask me if I was sad?"

Mr. Xavier’s gaze darkens, and the air seems to solidify.

I take a deep breath and swallow back the sentence, "Besides, I have no feelings for Ethan Xavier."

He doesn’t deserve my explanation.

...

Two days later, when the doctor was doing rounds, he said Mr. Xavier had completely recovered and could be discharged, explaining the discharge matters to me.

Just then, the phone on the table started vibrating.

Mr. Xavier also glanced at the screen with ’Ethan Xavier’ on it.

He frowned slightly, waved off the doctor, and then said to me, "Answer it. What? So excited you can’t even pick up the phone? Should I answer it for you?"

Knowing that he was mocking me, I didn’t hold back, and answered the call right in front of him.

Ethan Xavier’s slightly hoarse voice overflowed from the receiver: "Zoe, my flight is at three this afternoon, I want... to see you. Are you... available?"

I didn’t want more complications, and was about to refuse when Mr. Xavier beside me let out a laugh and said, "See him. So you won’t regret it when thinking about it in your midnight dreams and can’t sleep."

Knowing full well he was being sarcastic, I deliberately took it sincerely and said to Ethan Xavier, "Okay, I’ll see you off."

After hanging up the phone, Mr. Xavier just stared at me as if cold wind was swirling in his eyes.

I forced a smile at him, and said, "I’m taking your advice, meeting once so there won’t be regrets."

Little did I know that as I prepared to set off in the afternoon, Mr. Xavier followed me: "I’ll accompany you; after all, he’s my brother."

I didn’t refuse; anyway, there wasn’t much time left to endure him.

He could do as he pleased!

...

Airport.

Mr. Xavier leaned in the car, playing with the Buddha Beads in his hand, not intending to get out, but coldly reminded me, "Come back soon."

I ignored him and got out of the car myself.

As I walked into the waiting hall, I quickly saw Ethan Xavier.

He was wearing a simple white shirt, much thinner than before, evidently having suffered quite a bit during this time.

Seeing me, his eyes flashed a trace of joy, then dimmed again: "Recently, have you been well? Tell me, why did Mr. Xavier relent? Did you make some deal with him?"

"No."

I smiled slightly, and said, "After all, you’re his brother, he can’t be completely ruthless, right?"

Ethan Xavier let out a mocking laugh, "Mr. Xavier, that man, does he care about that? He can sacrifice his own child, what’s there that he can’t sacrifice?"

I was stunned.

I remember Jenna Sutton saying she didn’t tell him about my miscarriage.

So, where did Ethan Xavier’s words come from?

Seemingly sensing my confusion, his tone turned sorrowful and melancholy: "The other day, you were hospitalized because of a miscarriage, right? I asked around at Westcliff Monastery, and the monk who took you to the hospital told me."

I fell silent, the matter is a pain in my heart, I don’t want to bring it up.

Ethan Xavier said with bitterness, "Do you think I attacked Mr. Xavier for any other reason? That day, after I learned about this, I was overwhelmed, I lost all reason. I only knew that the one who should die is Mr. Xavier!"

"Ethan Xavier."

I interrupted him, took a deep breath and said, "It’s all in the past. We’re just ordinary friends; you’ve done enough for me."

I feared that he might lose his cool and do something impulsive.

Ethan Xavier asked, "Did you tell Mr. Xavier? Does he know that you’ve lost yet another child for him?"

I calmly said, "He doesn’t know."

Ethan Xavier looked at me, his eyes full of incomprehension: "You’ve suffered so much, why does he get to live carefree without any guilt!"

I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the tumultuous sadness within, and said, "His life in the future won’t have anything to do with me. I don’t want any involvement with him, nor do I need him to feel guilty. Once you leave, I’ll divorce him."

Ethan Xavier seemed to understand something, and looked at me with a resolute gaze, "Zoe, I’ll come back again."

"Stay abroad and live well; don’t come back again!" I advised, "Auntie Katherine has been running around for your affairs, worrying day and night. You suffer inside, and she suffers outside."

Ethan Xavier fell silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Do you also think I can’t beat Mr. Xavier?"

I looked at him and said helplessly, "I don’t want to participate in the struggle between you brothers."

At this time, Ethan Xavier suddenly showed a gloomy smile, his tone determined: "Trust me, I will win in the end, I hold Mr. Xavier’s fatal weakness."

I was startled by his expression.

Ethan Xavier, who was usually straightforward, I had never seen him so calculating.

Just then, the airport broadcast sounded, urging passengers to board.

Ethan Xavier looked at me deeply and said, "I’m leaving then, take care."

I nodded and said, "You too."

He walked a few steps, then turned back, looked at me for a long time, before turning again and walked into the boarding gate.

I stood in place, watching the direction he disappeared into, and felt inexplicably uneasy.

What was the ’fatal weakness of Mr. Xavier’ he mentioned?

Shaking my head to clear away chaotic thoughts, I turned and walked out.

It doesn’t matter anymore.

I’m about to divorce Mr. Xavier, no matter how they fight, it will have nothing to do with me in the future.

...

Back in the car, Mr. Xavier in the rear seat slowly opened his eyes, the sandalwood Buddha Beads making a faint sound at his fingertips.

Seeing my gloomy face, he let out a sentence with an icy tone, "Sending off Ethan Xavier, are you that upset?"

I stepped down from the rear seat and sat in the passenger seat; I preferred to sit beside the driver rather than next to him.

The driver nervously wiped a cold sweat, not daring to drive, carefully saying, "Madam, you... why don’t you sit in the back?"

The driver’s pleading look was enough to indicate how demanding a boss Mr. Xavier usually was to subordinates.

I didn’t want to get others involved, and eventually returned to sit next to Mr. Xavier.

"Drive."

Mr. Xavier calmly instructed the driver, "Back to The Xavier Manor."

I frowned, and gave my apartment address, "Take me home first."

After speaking, I looked at Mr. Xavier, my voice so calm it was like stagnant water: "You’ve been discharged and recovered. So, our deal is complete. When are we going to the Civil Affairs Bureau?"

The air abruptly quieted, Mr. Xavier’s hand holding the Buddha Beads gradually tightened, his knuckles whitening.

After a long while, he spoke, his tone impassive: "Your divorce agreement is inadequate, some parts need amendments."

I was extremely speechless, so I pursued: "Make it clear, what needs alteration?"

Mr. Xavier’s tone was blunt, "Why the rush! It’ll naturally be communicated once revised."

I stopped questioning.

At least he hadn’t reneged; this was already better than expected.

Later, Timothy Xavier directly had the driver drop me off halfway there.

...

When I got home, I washed the sheets and bedding, and then did a thorough cleaning of the house. By the time I finished, it was nearing evening.

After dinner, I went to the rehabilitation center where my mother was staying.

Lately, I’ve been taking care of Timothy Xavier in the hospital and haven’t visited my mom in a long time.

The rehabilitation center is eerily quiet at night, I could even hear my own footsteps echoing in the hallway.

My mom’s room is at the end of the hallway, and from a distance, I could see a figure in a camel coat.

A slender woman was leaning through the slightly open door, peeking inside.

I stopped and asked, "Excuse me, who are you..."

The woman turned around quickly as if burnt, but she was wearing a hat, mask, and sunglasses, almost fully disguised.

If she weren’t much taller than Serena Sawyer, I would have thought it was Serena up to no good again.

But this woman looked very suspicious too.

I quickly walked toward her, intending to get some answers.

But she turned and ran, the sound of her heels striking the floor was particularly frantic.

The emergency stairwell was right next to my mom’s room, and she vanished down the corridor and into the stairwell in the blink of an eye.

When I got there, the door was still slightly swinging. She had run down the stairs and when I followed, I couldn’t see her anymore.

It seemed as if everything that just happened was an illusion.

Deflated, I returned to the room and something near my foot caught my eye with a glint.

I bent down and discovered it was a delicate pink diamond ear stud.

It must have been accidentally dropped by that woman in a panic.

I put the earring in my pocket and quickly went to my mom’s room, pressing the call button.

After the doctor finished examining my mother, he said, "The patient shows no abnormalities."

I breathed a slight sigh of relief, then relayed what I had seen tonight to the doctor.

"Could you please check the surveillance cameras? I want to know what that woman’s motive was."

After listening, the doctor smiled and said, "Miss Ellison, are you perhaps too tense? In our hospital, we often encounter people who accidentally go to the wrong room. Maybe, it was just a mistake."

"That’s unlikely," I said. "She was visibly flustered when she saw me. I’m worried my mom might be in danger..."

The doctor seemed a bit impatient and said, "What danger could there be? Isn’t your mother perfectly fine now? With such baseless speculation, we cannot accommodate your request to check the surveillance footage. After all, it also relates to other patients’ privacy. Our hospital needs a reasonable cause to access the footage. Your reason, I’m afraid, is too far-fetched."

In the end, the doctor refused me.

I stayed with my mother for a while, preoccupied, then returned home and took out the ear stud I had picked up.

The platinum branches wrapped around a teardrop-shaped pink diamond and even under ordinary indoor lighting, the diamond was brilliantly dazzling.

It didn’t look fake.

I photographed the earring and searched it online, unexpectedly finding out that it’s a ’haute couture’ earring from a brand, released in a limited edition globally, named "Dawn."

The diamonds on each pair of earrings have fixed serial numbers, allowing you to trace the owner.

I felt a surge of excitement.

Through this earring, I could uncover the identity of that woman from last night.

If I don’t clear this up, I’m genuinely afraid my mom might be harmed by someone with ill-intentions again.

...

The next day, I specifically went to a luxury store in the city center where the earring was sold.

Initially, they refused to tell me who owned the earrings, citing privacy policies.

Eventually, I discreetly gave them a $5000 tip.

The three words the clerk told me left me utterly stunned.

"Naomi Sawyer? Are you saying the owner of this earring is Naomi Sawyer?"

I confirmed in disbelief.

The clerk nodded and said, "Yes, according to the serial number on the diamond, it was purchased here by Miss Sawyer four years ago."

I walked out of the store, the glaring sunlight making me feel cold all over.

Why did that woman have Naomi Sawyer’s earrings?

Did someone steal them after her death?

Or does it mean Naomi Sawyer...

Never actually died!

But previous reports from the private investigator indicated she was paralyzed from an accident.

The woman’s agile stride last night certainly didn’t resemble someone with mobility issues.

To find out the truth, I booked a flight to Westmere that very day, using the addresses provided by the private investigator, and found the psychiatric hospital where Naomi Sawyer had lived for four years.

I expected to go through some trouble to get clues, but after her death, Timothy Xavier sold this psychiatric hospital at the lowest price.

That meant the hospital was no longer connected to Timothy Xavier.

Therefore, after paying a fee, they promptly arranged for someone to answer my questions.

I was attended to by a gray-haired head nurse named Grace.

Upon hearing the name "Naomi Sawyer," her blue-gray eyes darkened.

She looked at me with puzzlement and asked, "What is your relationship with Miss Sawyer?"

I showed her my wedding photo with Timothy Xavier and said, "Miss Sawyer is a friend of my husband."

I didn’t beat around the bush or avoid anyone.

Even if Timothy Xavier found out, it didn’t matter!

It’d be perfect, he could join me in investigating, to ascertain whether his so-called true love was dead or alive!

Grace looked at me in shock and said, "So, Mr. Xavier is married? We always thought..."

"You thought Naomi Sawyer was his wife, right?"

I conversed with her in English.

Grace nodded awkwardly.

I asked, "Could you tell me about Naomi Sawyer? Especially... what really happened on the day she died?"

Grace spoke softly, "It’s a shame, Miss Sawyer, such a young lady, with a man who treated her so well, chose to end her life. Honestly, we are not clear on the specific reasons for her suicide."

I voiced my confusion, "I heard she jumped from the sixteenth floor. But wasn’t she paralyzed? How could she jump by herself?"

Grace nodded and said, "That afternoon, at about three, Miss Sawyer said she wanted to be alone for a while and asked the caregivers to leave. Her room had a floor-to-ceiling window facing east, and she jumped out from there."

"Right here."

Grace pushed open the door, sighed deeply, and said, "When the caregiver found out, the window was open and the wheelchair was overturned by the window. Because the building was so tall, she was completely unrecognizable upon falling, with her brain splattered."

I walked to the window and pushed at the frame, saying, "This window is heavy."

"Yes," Grace said, "for safety reasons, all our windows have been reinforced, requiring two hands to fully open them."

I said incredulously, "Was she alone in the wheelchair at the time? No one helped her?"

For a paralyzed patient, if no one helped her, I don’t believe she could have opened such a heavy window by herself.