CHAPTER 103: CHAPTER 103: JENSON, WE’RE EVEN NOW

Jenson Forrest’s eyes fell on the bank card being handed to him, and his gaze instantly froze over.

The man didn’t take the card. Instead, he looked up and stared at Zinnia.

"You came looking for me today just to give me this?"

His voice was thick with suppressed anger. On the way here, he had considered so many possibilities. He wondered if she had suddenly come to her senses and decided to stop causing trouble. Or perhaps she had experienced the cold realities of the world, encountered some difficulty, or suffered some grievance that made her come looking for him. He even dared to think that maybe, just maybe, she simply missed him. He had been hopeful the entire trip, urging Timothy Cohen to drive faster. But he never imagined that she had come to give him this thirty million, and with another man, no less. She really knew how to surprise him now.

An intimidating chill emanated from the man, yet Zinnia showed no fear. She just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. She had no desire to see Jenson Forrest or Sienna Forrest.

"Yes. The thirty million we agreed on, not a penny less. Take it," she urged. When Jenson Forrest still refused to accept it, she tried to stuff it directly into his hand.

But instead of taking it, Jenson Forrest withdrew his hand as if Zinnia were shoving a death warrant at him, not a huge sum of thirty million.

Zinnia frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

Jenson Forrest responded coldly, "Zinnia, haven’t I told you before? I don’t take just any dirty, filthy money."

His meaningful gaze swept over Alaric Hawthorne, who was standing behind Zinnia. The implication was clear: he assumed she had gotten the money from Alaric Hawthorne.

Zinnia’s pale face instantly flushed red with humiliation and anger.

She had sold years of her creative work, toiling day and night to earn this money. She did it all just to repay Jenson Forrest and the Forrest Family with dignity. She didn’t want to be looked down on or be the pitiful girl the Forrest family had raised. More than anything, she refused to let anyone from the Forrest family—people like Sienna—despise her and trample on her whenever they pleased.

Yet, Jenson Forrest rendered all her struggles and efforts utterly worthless.

He didn’t even bother to ask or investigate. He just opened his mouth and declared her money dirty and filthy.

Zinnia’s eyes burned as she stared resentfully at Jenson Forrest. "Every single penny of this thirty million was earned through my own hard work! I have records of every transaction, all perfectly clear. See for yourself."

Zinnia pulled a small ledger from her bag and held it out to Jenson Forrest along with the card.

Jenson Forrest’s expression was grim, but he still didn’t take them, standing as if he were petrified.

Zinnia raised her arm and threw them straight at him. "Jenson Forrest, we’re even!"

The ledger hit him in the chest. The bank card flew up and struck his noble, cold face before both items clattered to the floor at his feet.

Jenson Forrest’s expression turned sullen. He closed his eyes, his entire being radiating a furious energy.

Sienna Forrest stared at Zinnia in disbelief. "Zinnia, are you insane?! How dare you throw that at Jenson!"

Zinnia was undoubtedly the first person to ever hit Jenson Forrest with a bank card, and she would most certainly be the last.

Zinnia turned to Alaric Hawthorne. "Alaric, let’s go."

Alaric nodded, and they both moved to leave.

But as Zinnia walked past Jenson Forrest, the motionless man suddenly seized her wrist.

Zinnia tried to shake her hand free, but his grip was painfully tight, and he refused to let go. She struggled to pull her arm away, completely reckless. A sharp pain shot through her wrist, and the skin instantly turned red.

Jenson Forrest’s gaze fell on the red mark, and he was forced to release her.

Zinnia strode away. Alaric fell a step behind, pausing beside Jenson Forrest to speak.

"I was here to visit an elder and ran into Zinnia by chance. Also, Young Master Forrest, before you throw your weight around, you should probably understand the cause of things. Why don’t you ask Sixth Miss Forrest what she really did?"

Jenson Forrest returned Alaric Hawthorne’s stare, their gazes meeting.

One’s gaze was as deep and boundless as a frozen abyss, concealing a bone-chilling blade. The other’s was mocking and openly provocative. Sparks flew in the silent clash between them, each wishing they could tear the other to pieces.

Jenson Forrest’s thin lips curled slightly. "She is my wife. If Second Young Master Hawthorne truly wishes our marriage well, you should be mindful of propriety."

Alaric Hawthorne chuckled. "The future is long. The present doesn’t represent what’s to come."

The implication was clear: today Zinnia was Mrs. Forrest, but in the future, she might just become Mrs. Hawthorne.

Jenson Forrest understood this perfectly.

Sienna Forrest, of course, understood as well. She immediately burst into tears and grabbed Alaric Hawthorne’s arm.

"Alaric, do you really like Zinnia?"

She couldn’t accept it. The man she liked, the one she’d pursued but could never win over—how could he willingly be the other man for a woman she utterly despised? The blow was too much for her to bear.

Alaric Hawthorne pulled his arm away. "Sixth Miss Forrest, who I like is none of your business. But I can tell you this: I would never like someone so foul-mouthed, insulting, and caustic."

Alaric actually called her caustic? But Zinnia was the one who threw coffee on her and slapped her! How could he be so biased? Sienna was on the verge of going insane. Tears streamed down her face, but Alaric had already walked out quickly.

She stomped her foot and looked pitifully at Jenson Forrest. "Jenson, Zinnia was just... with Alaric, right in front of you..."

Before she could finish, Jenson Forrest turned to look at her.

His gaze held no warmth. It was so chilling that Sienna immediately clamped her mouth shut, her face turning pale.

"What did you do?" Jenson Forrest asked coldly.

Sienna lowered her head guiltily. "I... What could I have done? I went to the hospital to find Alaric and just happened to see Zinnia on a date with him, so I questioned them a little. That’s all."

Sienna nervously licked her lips. Jenson Forrest appeared calm, but to her, he looked like a demon from Hell.

"My face hurts so much, and I’m a mess. I’m leaving now."

She tried to leave, but Jenson Forrest raised a hand to block her and instructed Timothy Cohen, "Watch her. Find out exactly what happened."

With that, he bent down, picked up the ledger and bank card from the floor, and strode toward the door.

Sienna clenched her hands, her face growing even paler. She turned anxiously to Timothy Cohen, who was blocking her path.

"I need to go to the hospital to get my face checked, and I need to change. Let me through."

Timothy Cohen simply smiled at her. "Sixth Miss Forrest, will you explain what happened yourself, or should I have the bodyguards watch you while I go question the waitstaff?"

***

Zinnia walked quickly out of the café. When the cold wind hit her, her face felt icy.

She reached up to touch her cheeks, only then realizing that she had started crying at some point.

She forcefully wiped the tears away and lifted her head, determined not to let any more fall.

Alaric Hawthorne followed her out and silently handed her a tissue. His voice was gentle.

"Go ahead and cry. You’ll feel better once it’s out. I’ll stand guard. No one will see you."

As he spoke, he took a step forward, unbuttoned his overcoat, and held it open wide. Zinnia stood at the corner, and as he shielded her, he created a small, private space.

Zinnia had already managed to stop crying, but now she couldn’t hold back the tears. She crouched down, hugging her shoulders as her whole body trembled silently.

Alaric Hawthorne looked down at her, his expression exceptionally gentle and compassionate.

Jenson Forrest emerged from the café, his eyes swiftly searching the area. When he spotted them, his gaze instantly sharpened like a blade. His fingers tightened reflexively.

CRACK.

The bank card splintered in his palm. The force of his grip was so strong it cut into his hand, and droplets of blood splattered onto the ground.