CHAPTER 105: CHAPTER 105: YOUR HUSBAND WANTS TO INVESTIGATE YOU

Nancy Sawyer was utterly in despair.

He had thought that at least, after reconnecting with Sophia Lowell, he could spend the rest of his life with the woman who once loved him back.

He hadn’t expected that his own daughter would personally push their relationship further and further apart.

He reflected.

All of this was his own fault...

Back then, Mrs. Sawyer liked Nancy, but Nancy and Autumn Lowell were in love.

But at that time, Autumn Lowell was just the daughter of a small-time peddler; she was no help at all to his career.

So he chose to marry Mrs. Sawyer, which helped him climb to a position of political power, and also got him involved in all sorts of black market businesses; the family’s influence slowly grew.

The year after Tim was born, he went to find Autumn, hoping to rekindle things with her; Autumn was unwilling, but was still forced into a relationship with him.

Autumn couldn’t bear to be the woman kept in the dark, so she went abroad and secretly gave birth there.

All these years, she’d borne everything alone.

Nancy looked for her for a year, then gave up.

He thought Autumn would come back to find him.

Even though Autumn was the daughter of a petty merchant, her family was conservative; since she was "tainted," she naturally wouldn’t go to another man, so she was bound to come back.

But he only guessed half right.

Autumn didn’t look for another man—and didn’t come back to him either.

He staggered, taking a step back again.

"So why did you two come here today?"

Zane Sterling said coldly, "To make her give up!"

"No!" Nancy roared!

"She’s already like this! You can’t put her through any more!"

Nancy blocked them both.

Since Sophia Lowell refused to acknowledge him, Tim Sawyer was his last hope.

If Tim suffered more provocation and tried to kill herself again, then what?

His life would really be over!

Is God really set on punishing him this way?

"Nancy," a deep, rich voice called from not far off.

It was an old man.

The elder was calm and dignified, a weathered look on his face, standing not far away like some untouchable war general.

His gaze slid past Zane and fell on Sophia.

Sophia didn’t notice him, just kept staring at Nancy’s unfamiliar face.

The old man hesitated for a few seconds, then raised his finger slowly.

Four or five bodyguards behind him headed toward Nancy, who still hadn’t registered what was happening.

"Who are you people? What do you want?!" Nancy struggled.

The two bodyguards next to Zane shielded Zane and Sophia, moving them to the side.

"Annoying." The old man clicked his tongue.

As soon as he spoke, the bodyguards covered Nancy’s mouth and dragged him away.

Nancy struggled desperately; he had no idea who he’d offended this time, but he couldn’t stand against trained bodyguards.

Zane turned slightly, blocking Sophia’s line of sight, so she wouldn’t see—afraid she’d have nightmares again that night.

Nancy was hauled off, and the hospital corridor instantly became calm and quiet.

The old man still stood there.

He leaned on his cane, looking in Sophia’s direction.

He nodded to Zane, and Zane nodded back in response.

Zane recognized him—that was Ian Lynch’s grandfather, Zeke Lowell; he’d seen him once or twice, but would never mistake him.

Zeke Lowell?

What was he doing here?

His gaze flickered with a trace of emotion.

Sophia saw he was momentarily out of it and squeezed his hand. "What’s wrong?"

Zane snapped out of it. "Nothing."

"Come on, let’s go in and take a look."

"Mm."

Sophia didn’t care about Nancy’s situation.

For human scum without backbone, any outcome he got was deserved.

The two bodyguards stood at the door on guard as Sophia and Zane walked into Tim’s hospital room.

Tim lay in bed, getting an IV drip, her other hand thickly bandaged.

There wasn’t a trace of color left on her face.

Over just one night, she looked like she’d lost a lot of weight.

Like a flower in full bloom that withered overnight.

She’d lost her light, her vitality, like a rag doll with no soul...

"I’m sorry." Tim’s parched lips uttered three words. "Zane..."

Zane cut her off: "What’s done is done, don’t bother apologizing."

In a single sentence, he cleanly cut off any ties between them.

Tim forced a smile. Now that the one involved had moved on—clearly, she wasn’t the one hurt, but she just couldn’t let go.

"Zane, I’m just glad you could let go. Otherwise I’d never forgive myself."

Zane was unmoved.

The year before, he’d heard that Zane had once tried to kill himself.

The cut Tim made last night—god, it hurt so much.

The pain was suffocating—she couldn’t even speak from it.

She could almost feel how broken Zane must’ve been when he was sent overseas.

Thinking from his perspective, her pain was nothing in comparison.

So this is what it feels like to be on the edge of death.

Maybe the world isn’t quite as rotten as she’d thought.

Zane squeezed Sophia’s hand; his rebirth, the credit for everything, belonged to the woman in front of him.

Tim watched their fingers entwined and showed a gratified smile.

"Zane, Sophia deserves you."

"Of course." Zane squeezed her hand a little tighter.

Sophia looked at Zane. "Zane, you go out first. I want to talk to her."

Zane, worried, glanced at Tim, then fixed his gaze on Sophia again.

Tim smiled: "You go on out. I won’t do anything stupid again; if I die, there’ll really be nothing left—I need to live well now."

Zane’s thumb stroked the back of Sophia’s hand. "I’ll be waiting for you outside."

"Mm." Sophia nodded.

Tim watched Zane leave the room.

Zane leaned against the door and told the two bodyguards something, sending them away.

While he waited, he made a call to Ethan Sinclair.

[Mr. Sterling.]

[Are you free? Need a favor—look up some records.]

Ethan glanced at his phone and paused, thinking he’d misheard.

Since when did the boss ever ask for something with a question mark?

Wasn’t it usually: Look this up, I want it in three minutes. Fail and you’re out?

Had he turned over a new leaf?

[Go ahead.]

[I want all of Sophia’s records.]

Ethan pressed his lips together and refused.

[Mr. Sterling, I’ll be blunt—she’s your wife now. If you have to rely on an investigation, you’ve failed. I may love money, but I do have my limits.]

Before they got together, Ethan had done all sorts of digging on his behalf, spared no effort.

But now that she was in his bed, digging into her like this was just low.

Zane frowned.

Limits?

Since when did Ethan have any limits?

Wasn’t money his "limit"?

Where did these "limits" come from?

Zane was puzzled.

Last night Sophia had cried the whole night, and by morning she’d stayed glued to his side all day.

Apart from fiddling on her phone, she was so calm it worried him.

Just now, he didn’t know what she’d shown Nancy, but Nancy had been scared out of his wits.

Zane had once had someone investigate Nancy Sawyer, but found nothing especially surprising.

Yet she’d managed to dig up Nancy’s dirty secrets in just a few hours that morning—never flinching once.

It made Zane see her in a whole new light.

There was clearly much more to Sophia than he knew.

Ethan could sense Zane was silent for quite a while, so he continued: [How long have you really spent with Sophia? Be patient—don’t get greedy. Good wine should be savored slowly.]

Zane paused.

Why did it sound like Ethan was hiding something from him?

Double meanings in every word.

He hung up, mulling over Ethan’s advice.

—Good wine should be savored slowly.

A faint smile formed at the corner of his lips.

It seemed his wife still had plenty of secrets.

Ethan hung up and opened his WhatsApp chat with Sophia.

[Sis, your husband’s trying to investigate you.]