Chapter 9 He's Dead

"Are you toying with me, President Hawthorne?" I snatched up the contract and rose defiantly, jabbing a finger at the clause. Then I hurled the document at Dominic Hawthorne and turned to leave. I didn't even dare glance back. One more second, and I'd break—my humiliation would show on my face. I hurried all the way to the gate of the residential complex, glancing back at the opulent entrance. Recalling my past naivety, I felt both pitiful and absurd. Dominic Hawthorne, CEO of Skyreach Group—how could one night with a woman make him fall in love? Even if I bore the same face as the woman he loved. —— I moved in with Gina and began rebuilding my life from scratch. I'd studied interior design at university. During my senior year, I interned at a reputable firm and was set to be formally hired after graduation. But the Fairchild family declared that the Hawthornes were a prestigious household and didn't want their daughter-in-law appearing in public. So I foolishly quit my job. Now I had to start over. Thankfully, when my former supervisor learned my situation, he immediately agreed to take me back. Same salary, same benefits. In interior design, site visits were routine, overtime was standard, and weekends were nonexistent. A week later, I worked until 11 p.m., calculating I still had a pack of instant noodles at home—cook them up and crash. Gina's place was an old building. The hallway lights had long been out. I fumbled up the dark stairs, only to see a faint phone glow at my doorstep. My first thought: Gina had come back and forgotten her keys. I couldn't help but tease, "Gina, in the half month I've stayed here, this is your first time forgetting your keys. I'm honestly surprised." The moment I spoke, I realized the height was off. Before I could see clearly, the person slipped the phone into their pocket and snapped, "Lydia Fairchild, you bitch! What did you tell Dominic?" Only then did I recognize it was Leona Fairchild. "What did I say?" I was starving and couldn't recall. "Did you tell him I've got a messy private life? Someone told me he's digging into my past!" She stepped down, advancing toward me. That jolted my memory—I'd been drunk that day and spilled all of Leona's dirty secrets to Dominic. So even though he'd seemed dismissive, he'd actually started investigating her. Knowing this, my mood unexpectedly lifted. "What's that got to do with me? The Hawthorne family is powerful. Isn't it normal to vet the heir's wife?" The corridor was pitch-black. I couldn't see Leona's face. She stayed silent for several seconds. Thinking she'd given up, I said, "Fine, I'm leaving." But just as I turned to step past, she suddenly grabbed my arm and let out a chilling laugh. "Lydia Fairchild, don't think this means you can replace me. Let me tell you—dream on!" Then she abruptly released me, stepped back twice, and screamed, "No! No! Ah! Help!" A thunderous crash echoed through the dark corridor—someone tumbling down the stairs. Then, silence. I froze, stunned that Leona would do this to herself. She'd rolled down to the third floor. The noise was so loud that the man from unit three flung open his door, his wife cowering behind him. Light spilled out, revealing Leona sprawled motionless on the floor. "Ahh! Is she dead?!" the woman shrieked. Though furious, I didn't hesitate. I called an ambulance.