CHAPTER 121: CHAPTER 121: JENSON FORREST STAYED OVERNIGHT

"I don’t like her," Jenson said impatiently, grabbing Eighth by the collar and lifting the boy clean off his feet.

Does he think we’re still in elementary school, talking about ’like’ or ’dislike’? The entanglement between him and Zinnia was far too deep to be defined by such simple words.

"Bro, you’re hopeless!" Eighth grunted, burying his face against Jenson’s midsection before pushing him away and running toward Zinnia.

"Seventh Sister, you should hurry up and get a divorce! Like someone else! Liking just one person is too exhausting. You should like seventy or eighty more."

Zinnia reached out to catch the boy, squatting down to pat the dust off his clothes. She discreetly pressed a hand to her chest. It didn’t ache, but it felt hollow and numb. She smiled at Eighth. "Alright, Seventh Sister will work hard on that. I’ll try all different types."

Jenson turned and strode over, looking down at Zinnia. "Liking one person is exhausting. Liking seventy or eighty will only be more so."

Zinnia stood up, raising an eyebrow with a smile. "That’s not so certain. Maybe I have the potential to be a ’Queen of the Sea,’ with boundless love to give."

Zinnia took Eighth’s hand and started to walk away. Eighth shot a dramatic eye-roll at Jenson.

He’s a lost cause! A total lost cause!

Jenson stepped forward and opened the rear door of the car for them, his gaze fixed on Zinnia. "It’s late. I’ll take you home."

He was driving the same Cullinan, and the memory of Crystal Sutton sitting in this very car made Zinnia’s stomach turn. She shook her head. "Eighth needs to rest. It’ll be too late if you take me home and then take him back. There’s no need for all that trouble. I can easily call a car."

Jenson’s expression darkened as he insisted, "Get in the car. I can’t just leave you here this late at night."

Zinnia pursed her lips. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before. Last time, I was perfectly fine at home when he carried me out and kicked me out of his car, leaving me barefoot.

"Seventh Sister, I’m not going back! I want to stay with you tonight!" Eighth clung to Zinnia’s waist, refusing to let go, nuzzling his head against her as he pleaded. He was growing fast and his head already reached her chest.

Jenson’s handsome face hardened. His large hand snaked out, grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck, pulled him away from Zinnia, and tossed him directly into the back seat.

Eighth scrambled up, shouting angrily, "Bro! Are you a monster?"

"Boys shouldn’t whine like that!" Jenson said sternly, slamming the car door shut.

Eighth, however, slid the window down and poked his head out. "Bro, you really don’t get it. A boy who whines gets the best things in life! Seventh Sister, Seventh Sister, please let me go back with you!" The little guy pouted, clinging to the window frame with a miserable look.

Zinnia thought about holding Eighth just now. Even though he was growing taller, he felt as light as a feather—just a bundle of bones with his clothes hanging loosely on his frame. He must have suffered a lot while he was sick recently. Then, she thought about how she was going abroad in two days and had no idea when she would see Eighth again.

She nodded. "Get back in the car before you catch a cold. Seventh Sister promises."

"Yay! See that!" Eighth shot a triumphant little glare at Jenson before closing the window.

Jenson chuckled, then took Zinnia’s arm and guided her to the front passenger seat. "It’s getting late. Let him lie down in the back and get some sleep."

Zinnia nodded and took her seat.

During the drive, Eighth must have been truly exhausted, as he lay quietly in the back and fell asleep.

Zinnia then asked Jenson in a low voice, "Eighth’s health..."

"A specialized medical team has been assembled. His condition is currently under control. A new drug is also in development, but progress is slow."

Jenson’s words were calm, but the taut line of his jaw made Zinnia’s heart sink. She turned to look at Eighth.

Jenson glanced over at the same moment, his eyes landing on her shimmering, watery gaze, which was filled with worry and heartache. A sharp pang of jealousy hit him. He used to be the most important person in this girl’s heart, but now it seemed like anyone was more important than him.

"My wound wasn’t healing for the longest time, but I don’t recall seeing you this worried," Jenson blurted out.

Zinnia let out a dry laugh and looked at him. "How do you have the nerve to bring that up? It’s a good thing I wasn’t worried, or I would’ve been a complete fool!" Besides, it wasn’t that she hadn’t been worried. She had been terribly concerned for days, only to find out he and Timothy Cohen had been tricking her the whole time.

Jenson stared at her cold little face, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. Yet, he let out a soft laugh. "Really not even a little bit of heartache?"

Zinnia glanced at him, meeting his half-smiling eyes, and her heart gave an involuntary squeeze. But her answer was firm and decisive. "Not a bit!"

Once bitten, twice shy. She would only ever suspect he was trying to deceive her again.

Jenson felt as if an invisible arrow had struck him in the chest. He scoffed lightly. "Great. I raised you for nothing."

He had called her an ungrateful wolf before, and this meant much the same thing. Yet, somehow, this time it carried a strange, unspoken hint of intimacy and indulgence. The Jenson tonight seemed a little different.

A strange warmth crept up her ears, and her heart grew flustered. She faked a yawn and closed her eyes. "I’m so sleepy. I’m just going to rest for a bit."

Jenson didn’t respond. A moment later, he glanced over at the woman. Her eyes were shut tight, but her long lashes were trembling faintly. A small smirk tugged at his thin lips.

「Downstairs at her apartment.」

Jenson leaned into the back and carried Eighth out. Zinnia led the way, and they placed the sleeping boy on her bed.

"Alright, you should go. Just send someone to pick Eighth up in the morning," Zinnia said, immediately trying to shoo him away without even offering a glass of water.

Jenson’s gaze swept across the small bedroom, freezing on two large boxes and a suitcase in the corner. "Packing already?" he asked.

On the bed, Eighth shifted. Worried about waking him, Zinnia gestured for Jenson to follow her to the living room to talk.

After closing the bedroom door, she turned and said, "Yes, I’ve started sorting things out."

The thought of her imminent departure filled Jenson’s eyes with gloom. He turned and, to her surprise, sat down on the sofa.

Zinnia frowned. "I didn’t invite you to sit."

"I’m thirsty. Getting your Third Brother a glass of water isn’t too much to ask, is it?"

Zinnia ground her teeth, marched to the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and thrust it at him. "Drink up."

Jenson took it and frowned. "It’s cold?"

Zinnia tried to snatch the glass back. "If you don’t want it, then forget it."

Jenson clicked his tongue, not letting go. "I’ll drink it." He took a sip, then said, "I’m staying here tonight."

Zinnia didn’t expect him to push his luck even further. Her face turned cold. "No way. Drink your water and get out!" Even though Yara Fairchild wasn’t coming back from the film set tonight, there was no way Zinnia would let Jenson stay. They had just registered their divorce, for goodness’ sake.

Jenson took another slow sip of water. He placed the glass on the coffee table, leaned back against the sofa, loosened his tie, and crossed his long legs. "I wasn’t asking for your opinion."

Zinnia laughed in anger. "President Forrest. Young Master Forrest. Before you start issuing commands, I suggest you take a look around. This isn’t Stellar, and it’s certainly not the Forrest estate."

Jenson nodded. "But this is Veridia. And in Veridia, what I say, goes."

Zinnia was speechless. He was right. In Veridia, he called the shots. Even if she called the police, they wouldn’t dare try to remove a man of his stature. Her face fell, her cheeks puffed with indignation. A flicker of amusement crossed Jenson’s eyes before he spoke again.

"Eighth’s condition is unstable. He could develop a fever or a nosebleed at any time. If something happens in the middle of the night, you won’t be able to get him to the hospital by yourself in time."

Zinnia thought about the scenarios he described, and her expression became conflicted and hesitant.

Jenson stood up. "Forget it. I’ll make do in the car. If anything happens, come down and get me."

As he spoke, he strode toward the entryway. His tall, imposing figure quickly reached the door. He seems like he’s genuinely just here for Eighth, with no other intentions. But it’s winter now. It’s freezing at night in a car, and he’s only wearing a suit. If he leaves the AC on while he sleeps, it could be dangerous.

Zinnia then remembered the video Eighth had sent her, and how Jenson had defended her earlier today. Gritting her teeth, she finally spoke. "Fine, do whatever you want. But I don’t have a bed for you here. If you’re willing, you can make do on the sofa for a—"

"That works."

Before she could finish her sentence, the man had already turned around and headed for the sofa. He casually took off his suit jacket, tossed it aside, and made himself comfortable, looking as at ease as if he were in his own home.

Zinnia was left speechless.

Why do I feel like I’ve just been played?