Chapter 5

Across the city, neon lights burned bright against the night. With one hand in his pocket and a file in the other, Theodore strolled out of Orion Club, Astoria's most exclusive private club. The collar of his black shirt was undone, his whole demeanor radiating a kind of effortless arrogance. He looked every bit the picture of a spoiled heir. Wesley, who had been waiting by the car, quickly stepped forward and greeted him, "Mr. Lockwood." Having worked for Theodore for seven years, Wesley could tell from his expression alone that the deal was in the bag. Theodore tossed him the file carelessly. Inside were documents for a 25% stake in Solvance Pharmaceuticals. "From today on, Solvance Pharmaceuticals is a Lockwood company," he said, the brazen pride in his casual tone impossible to miss. "Lockwood as in mine." Wesley replied, "When Mr. Zayn hears about this, he's going to lose it. He's been eyeing Solvance Pharmaceuticals for months and never managed to close the deal. "But Mr. Lockwood, you've never paid attention to the domestic pharmaceutical market. What made you suddenly take an interest in Solvance?" Theodore glanced at him, and the overwhelming authority in it sent a chill down Wesley's spine. He lowered his head at once. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lockwood. I spoke out of turn." With that, he hurried to open the backseat door for Theodore, then remembered something. "Mr. Lockwood, all arrangements at the hospital have been completed. The security cameras and elevators on Ms. Monroe's floor have been disabled. You can proceed directly to her hospital room." Theodore had been living abroad for years. Whenever he returned to the country, he maintained a low profile, staying only a few days before leaving once his business was done. Yet, one thing never changed. Each time he came back, he always made a stop in Astoria to visit a woman in the hospital. More precisely, a woman who had been in a coma. Once, Wesley couldn't hold back his curiosity and worked up the nerve to ask, "Mr. Lockwood, who exactly is Ms. Monroe?" Theodore didn't even look up from his paperwork as he said lightly, "She's just a fool." Wesley refused to believe he'd fly all the way home every year and go out of his way to visit a so-called fool. But of course, he dared not voice it. Tonight, though, Theodore did something uncharacteristic. He declined, saying, "I won't be going anymore." Wesley was taken aback but didn't dare ask further. "Understood, sir. I'll take you straight to the hotel to rest." Theodore said nothing. Instead, he got into the car, leaned back against the seat, and closed his eyes, a trace of weariness crossing his face. In no time, the car glided forward. Streetlights flickered through the half-lowered window, casting fleeting shadows across his sharply defined features. "Wesley," Theodore called out in a low voice. "Have someone get Willow Court ready. I'm moving in tomorrow night." Wesley was both surprised and delighted. "Mr. Lockwood, you've finally decided to stay for good!" Theodore lifted his gaze toward the window. The dim yellow glow of the streetlights reminded him of the sunset at the airport seven years ago. "It's been seven years, Cassandra," he thought. … Lying in bed, Cassandra could hear Gregory's footsteps approaching. Over the past five years in the hospital, she had heard them far too many times. At first, those footsteps had filled her with hope. But in time, only pain and hatred remained. As the door opened, the anger on her face softened instantly. "Gregory, you're done?" Cassandra asked gently. "Yeah," he responded evenly. He then approached the bedside and brushed her cheek. "Why aren't you asleep? Did I wake you?" Cassandra caught sight of the fresh lipstick stain on the collar of his white shirt. She could almost picture him kissing Olivia just moments ago and the way Olivia had nuzzled against him afterward. "Close your eyes and rest," Gregory murmured, leaning in to give her a goodnight kiss. Cassandra could smell Olivia's perfume on him. He was about to kiss her with the same lips that had just kissed another woman! She could no longer suppress the wave of nausea. Without a second thought, she shoved Gregory away and gagged. "What's wrong, Cass?" Gregory asked in a panic. "I'll call Dr. Reed immediately!" He looked genuinely concerned, a picture of a perfect husband—if only she were blind enough to miss the flicker of contempt in his eyes. Cassandra had to hand it to Gregory. He was a good actor. "No. It's fine," she replied once she caught her breath. A beat later, she reached out and tugged lightly at the hem of his shirt. "My stomach just feels off. Maybe I'm hungry." Gregory's gaze lingered on her hand clutching his shirt. It was a gesture so familiar that it left him momentarily dazed. He remembered how she always did that. When his stride was too quick and she fell behind, she'd tug at his shirt in a playful manner, saying, "Wait for me, Gregory." As Gregory lost himself in the memory, a rare, genuine smile tugged at his lips. "Shall I make you something to eat?" he asked softly. That was exactly what Cassandra had been waiting for. Her lips curled into a smile, and she said playfully, "Then, I want the mac and cheese you make for me." He had made it for her on two previous occasions. "Alright," Gregory responded, then turned to leave the room. Once his footsteps faded, Cassandra crawled to the nightstand on the other side and picked up the phone he had left there when he came in. The passcode was six digits. She remembered his old code. It had been the date he became a board member of Nimbus Group. But when she keyed it in, it didn't work. Did Gregory change it? Cassandra bit her nail absentmindedly. After a moment's thought, she entered the twins' birthdates. However, it still didn't work. At that moment, a message popped up on the lock screen. Olivia wrote, "Mr. Hart, this was the happiest birthday I've ever had. Thank you for bringing the kids to celebrate with me." She even added a heart emoji at the end. No wonder Olivia, Noelle, and Ashton had been waiting for Gregory earlier. As it turned out, he had taken the children to celebrate Olivia's birthday before going to the hospital. Cassandra closed her eyes, a chill spreading through her chest. She couldn't help but feel it was unfair. In all their years together, Gregory had never once celebrated her birthday willingly. The only time he did was after she had shamelessly begged Abraham Hart to intervene. Meanwhile, Olivia had effortlessly received the attention and care Cassandra had begged him for for years. Cassandra stared at the screen, a suspicion forming in her mind. Could it be… She hesitated, then entered Olivia's birthday. Sure enough, the screen unlocked. Cassandra went still. A moment later, she let out a self-deprecating chuckle and murmured, "Gregory, you really love her, don't you?" She tapped open his WhatsApp. Olivia's chat was pinned at the top, and she, his legitimate wife, didn't even appear in the list. For five long years, Gregory had visited her regularly at the hospital, keeping up the illusion of a devoted husband. But the truth was, he had long considered her dead. Heaviness settled in her chest as she scrolled down until she found her own contact. As she expected, he had saved her number under her full name—Cassandra Monroe. When Cassandra opened the chat between Gregory and Olivia, several new photos appeared. They were group shots from that evening's dinner. In each one, Olivia was grinning from ear to ear. She wore a party hat, holding Noelle and Ashton as she smiled at the camera. Gregory, on the other hand, stood behind her. To anyone else, they looked like the picture of a happy family. "Two scumbags… What a perfect match!" Cassandra thought bitterly. She scrolled up again, but there were no other messages. Gregory had always been cautious, never leaving any trace behind. All his previous conversations with Olivia had long been deleted. Without hesitation, Cassandra forwarded the photos to herself. Olivia had just handed her the evidence on a silver platter, after all. After that, she deleted every trace of what she had done and marked Olivia's messages as unread. Once she was done, she set Gregory's phone back exactly where it had been. Cassandra lay back down. From the corner of her eye, she saw the wedding photo tossed in the corner. A cloth covered her face, but she remembered just how sweetly she had smiled that day. In the photo, Gregory's lips curved in a smile, too, yet his gaze remained icy. He didn't love her, or rather, he never had. All along, she had been nothing more than someone he used. Cassandra wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, relief softening her expression. "Gregory, I don't love you anymore," she whispered.