Julian Sinclair leaned against the edge of the table, remaining silent for a mont before he slowly spoke: "Let’s wait until she’s completely cut ties with Timothy Xavier and that marriage. Right now, Timothy and his people are still clinging on. If they find out Eleanor is still alive and follow this lead, sooner or later they’ll dig up your violation of dication protocols."
Shaun Sinclair’s expression instantly grew serious and he agreed: "You’re right, we have to be extrely cautious about this!"
The two exchanged a look, both seeing the weight of worry reflected in each other’s eyes.
...
Veridia.
I hung up on Julian Sinclair and sat at my desk, staring blankly at my computer screen.
So how long is Julian going to stay mad?
"What are you spacing out for?"
Victoria Monroe walked over with a thick stack of docunts in her arms, urging , "There’s a mountain of drafts to proof today, plus several urgent news pieces that need to go out. If you drag your feet any more, you’ll miss picking up the kids tonight!"
I snapped back to reality, suddenly recalling how Madam Sinclair had specifically told this morning that she’d be attending a tea party this afternoon, and had a dinner gathering tonight—she wouldn’t be able to watch the kids at ho, so I needed to get off work early to pick them up.
Any rosy daydreams and worry in my heart vanished instantly. I hurriedly opened the docunts and my fingers began flying across the keyboard.
As the end of the workday drew near, I finally wrapped up all my work—just one last news story waiting to be uploaded.
But just as I clicked the "Publish" button, the website suddenly froze, then a prompt popped up: "Server error."
The office instantly buzzed with all sorts of murmurs, and my coworkers all turned their eyes to , curious and a bit strange.
I was bewildered, but Victoria Monroe rushed over, panic on her face, grabbed my wrist, and dragged into the break room next door.
"Zoe, you and President Sinclair... is it true?"
She locked the door behind her and shoved her tablet in my face, eyes filled with disbelief. "You actually moved into President Sinclair’s house? Living together?"
My heart plumted. My gaze fell on the trending topics on her tablet, and in an instant, I understood why the network had crashed.
#AureliaSinclairHeirInSuspectedTabooAffair# and #TimothyXaviersWifeCheatsWithCapitalCirclePrince# were trending, dominated by tags about , Julian Sinclair, and Timothy Xavier.
I clicked into the threads—the first thing popping up were photos of coming and going from The Sinclair Estate, shot from tricky angles but scarily clear.
Then ca a post by Julian Sinclair’s forr secretary, Jolie Joyce, on X, saying she saw sitting on Julian’s lap in the office, acting intimately.
Even "sources" claid Julian was actually Timothy’s uncle, and that I was having a taboo affair with my husband’s uncle.
The internet exploded on impact, with lines and lines of vile comnts flooding in:
"Oh my god, this scandal just did a 180! Thought the wife was going to expose the cheating bastard, but turns out she ran off and hooked up with his uncle."
"High society really does play by different rules! I used to feel sorry for Zoe Ellison, but now she looks like soone desperate to climb the social ladder!"
"Isn’t Julian Sinclair the ’Grim Reaper’ of the legal world? And isn’t The Sinclair Family famous for their strict family rules? This is their idea of family rules? Fooling around with your nephew’s wife, that’s a new low!"
Those an-spirited words pierced my eyes like needles. All the blood in my body seed to freeze; I couldn’t stop trembling.
Victoria Monroe stared at , the shock in her tone growing: "Wait a second... is this actually true? Are you really with President Sinclair—"
"It’s not what you think!"
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down, fixing her with a serious look.
Victoria paused briefly, then nodded firmly, "I believe you! But with all this out there right now, how are you going to clear your na?"
She hesitated, then, as if a thought suddenly struck her, gritted out, "That bitch Jolie Joyce must be out of her mind! Daring to expose this publicly! Or maybe it’s Serena Sawyer’s doing. Or the two of them working together!"
A wave of unease hit as I suddenly recalled that nagging feeling like soone’s been watching these past few days.
Turns out it wasn’t my imagination—paparazzi had been stalking all along!
Those photos online, of entering and leaving The Sinclair Estate, or taking Madam Sinclair for a walk—every single scene was crystal clear, obviously long preditated.
The air in the office turned oppressive in an instant. Staring at those twisted, upside-down comnts on the tablet, I felt a chill race from my feet to my scalp.
This was clearly a trap, ticulously laid out by soone.
Just then, frantic knocking ca at the break room door.
A coworker’s anxious voice rang out: "Editor-in-Chief Monroe, Zoe! You two should co out—there’s this old lady, skin and bones, kneeling in the lobby! She won’t say a word, and nothing we do gets her up, it’s terrifying!"
Victoria and I exchanged a glance.
My heart seized up. I jumped to my feet and rushed out.
There was a crowd of whispering coworkers in the center of the lobby. The woman kneeling on the cold tiles was, shockingly, Timothy Xavier’s grandmother, Diana Caldwell.
She looked even more emaciated than she had during our last eting. Her loose clothes hung on her like a hanger—her knees holding her up were shaking.
And yet this late-stage cancer patient barely able to stand insisted on kneeling before everyone, staring straight at .
I rushed forward, trying to help her up, but she wrenched her wrist from my grip with surprising force.
"Zoe, please, I beg you. Leave Julian, let him go, please?"
She stubbornly knelt there, her hoarse, desperate voice echoing through the silent office: "Julian’s spent years building his good na and reputation—don’t ruin him like this!"
The pointing and whispering all around made feel like I was roasting over an open fire.
Soone quietly pulled out their phone to record us.
Seeing this, Victoria Monroe suddenly strode forward and snapped, "Put your phones away! There are caras all over this office—if anyone dares leak what happened here today, you all know what President Sinclair does for a living! Who’s going to take responsibility if he cos after you?"
Everyone was startled into putting their phones away, though their eyes still darted over us, unsatisfied.
Victoria checked the ti and made a snap decision: "It’s closing ti. Get going, everyone!"
The coworkers all left at Victoria’s urging. But I was so choked up I couldn’t even say thank you.
Victoria reminded , "Take care of this as soon as possible. If you can’t handle it, talk to President Sinclair. This isn’t just your battle. Don’t try to shoulder it alone."
I murmured an acknowledgnt and Victoria left as well.
Only Diana Caldwell and I remained in the office.
Her sobs sounded again, still repeating: "Zoe, just have pity on an old woman about to die—please, let Julian go..."
Sorrow gripped my chest, nearly suffocating .
After a long silence, my voice was as calm and still as dead water: "Alright, I promise you."
She looked up abruptly, cloudy eyes filled with disbelief. "Really? You’re not lying to ?"
"I keep my word."
I bit my lip hard and said, word by word, "Julian Sinclair and I... will not have a future. Now, can you get up?"
It felt like saying those words drained every last bit of my strength—pain so sharp it radiated through every fiber of my body, even to my fingertips.
I did this, not for Diana Caldwell, but for Julian Sinclair.
So I extinguished with my own hands the last bit of light in my heart.
It was only then that she finally relaxed, bracing herself on the floor, wobbling to her feet.
I tried to support her, but she subtly avoided my touch.
"Let take you back to The Kendall Family."
Even with everything on my plate, I couldn’t let a terminally ill woman go ho alone—I just couldn’t.
But she shook her head, her tone distant: "No need. I had the driver bring . If people find out I’m Julian’s mother, they’ll think I’ve accepted you as—"
She didn’t finish, but the rest was more hurtful than any insult.
I gave a self-mocking little smile, suddenly feeling like I was a plague everyone desperately wanted to avoid.
Once she left in the car, I all but fled the office myself.
In the car, I called Jenna Sutton, who instantly answered, her voice brimming with fury: "It’s definitely that bitch Serena Sawyer, playing dirty! Ugh, why can’t she just drop dead?"
Gripping the wheel, staring at the gridlock ahead, my heart felt like it was being crushed under a boulder.
After a while, I took a deep breath and steadied my voice: "Jenna, could you please take Doris and Sharon to my place tonight? You know my door code. I’ll be ho later."
"Your place?" Jenna hesitated, confusion in her tone. "Aren’t I supposed to take them to The Sinclair Estate?"
"Given what’s happening, the further I stay from The Sinclair Family, the better."
I forced a bitter laugh, my voice laced with helplessness I couldn’t fully mask.
The Sinclair Family was already in the eye of the storm—if I stayed there, I’d only add to their troubles.
"I understand..."
Jenna’s voice was full of pain and worry for . "Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the kids—just look after yourself, okay?"
By the ti I reached The Sinclair Estate and pushed open the front door, a frantic maid rushed up to .
"Miss Ellison, you’re finally back! Madam Sinclair fainted on the spot at the tea party this afternoon as soon as she heard the news—she’s still lying in bed!"
My heart clenched tight, waves of guilt washing over .
I hurried into Madam Sinclair’s room to find her lying on the bed, face deathly pale.
I moved to her side, took her hand, and choked back tears: "Grandma, I’m so sorry... for putting you through this."
She slowly opened her eyes. When she saw it was , she shook her head weakly. "Silly child, why are you apologizing? This isn’t your fault."
But I knew all too well the blow she had suffered this ti.
On the way to her room, the maid had told : ever since the news broke this afternoon, people had made sneering remarks at the tea party—"How did Madam Sinclair, so admired and respected, raise a grandson who would have a taboo affair?"
Others twisted my history with Timothy Xavier, saying The Sinclair Family had "picked up soone’s discarded shoes."
Madam Sinclair had placed her reputation above everything all her life. She had never endured this kind of humiliation in high society—there was no overstating how deeply this hurt her.
She gently patted my hand, her gaze full of affection. "Don’t be afraid, child. Let people say what they want. Their tongues are theirs, we can’t control them. I’ve already called Julian. He’ll be ho soon, and he’ll take care of everything."
I knew she was only trying to comfort .
But at this point, with the whole internet abuzz and those filthy rumors spreading like a virus, what could Julian really do once he got back? Who could silence such a raging tide? Who could fight back against so-called "freedom of speech"?
Her hand was warm, but my heart felt sliced open with pain.
In that mont, I knew with crystal clarity: I would never again have the chance to be her granddaughter-in-law.
I couldn’t drag this kind woman down with —couldn’t let Julian wear the label of "incest" forever because of .
"Grandma."
I took a deep breath, forcing back the welling tears. "I can’t stay at The Sinclair Family ho anymore. You must take care of yourself, please don’t worry about . When this all blows over, I... I’ll co see you again."
I said it lightly, but only I knew it was just empty comfort.
Once I left this house and cut ties with The Sinclair Family for good, there’d never be a reason to return.
Only by doing this could I prove Julian Sinclair’s innocence—only then would those rumors collapse on themselves.
Madam Sinclair reached for my hand, but with no strength left, she could only plead to keep : "Zoe, you—"
I turned my face away, afraid to look her in the eyes—knowing if I looked one more second, I’d never bring myself to go.
I stood, bowed deeply to her—thanking her for her warmth and care—then spun around and walked quickly from the room, not daring to pause even a beat.
I was afraid that if I slowed, the only steel determination I had left would shatter.
...
On my way ho, Doris called .
On the other end, my little girl asked cautiously, "Mommy, when will you be ho?"
I forced down all the churning chaos inside and tried to sound calm. "I’m on my way."
Doris hesitated. "Daddy just called and asked how you’re doing. He said he can’t get in touch with you. Mommy, did sothing happen? Why did we suddenly move out of Great-grandma’s house?"
"Timothy Xavier"—even his na felt like a curse, haunting my every step.
In the end, this entire ss was set off by his mistress!
Again and again—it never ended.
I ignored my daughter’s questions, saying instead, "Mommy will explain when I get back. You and Sharon need to listen to Auntie Jenna and stay close, okay?"
Half an hour later, I finally got ho.
Two little figures raced toward as soon as I opened the door—Doris and Sharon.
Both kids looked up at , their faces confused, clearly not understanding why we’d suddenly left The Sinclair Family ho.
Jenna, already waiting in the living room, instantly jumped in to cover for , soothing the kids: "Great-grandma isn’t feeling well lately. She’s worried you’ll be too noisy and disturb her rest, so we ca ho for now. Rember, good children finish what they start. That castle puzzle we were working on is still waiting in your room—shall we go finish it up?"
Kids are simple—just hearing "puzzle" made their confusion turn into excitent, and they nodded intently.
When they went back to their room, only Jenna and I were left in the living room.
Jenna looked grave, lowering her voice: "This ti, was it Timothy Xavier behind it? Or was it Serena Sawyer? Or did they do it together?"
I collapsed heavily onto the sofa, feeling completely drained. "Whoever it was, things have gotten out of control and we have to deal with it now."
Jenna said, "Attorney Sinclair has always had a knack for problems like this—he’ll handle the public opinion storm, no problem."
"Handle it how?"
I asked weakly, my voice raw with fatigue. "At best, he can leverage his connections to scrub the sites by force—but he can’t stop the gossip. Just look, Madam Sinclair only went to a tea party and the snide comnts alone were enough to make her faint. I can’t let that happen again. I can’t only think about myself."
Jenna seed to rember sothing and added, "Wait, Attorney Sinclair hasn’t reached out to you at all?"
"He’s probably on his way back now. Not convenient to talk."
I paused, but couldn’t hold back any longer—so I told Jenna everything about the fight Julian and I had the other day, word for word.
Once I finished, Jenna just laughed it off. "Co on, what’s the big deal? All couples fight and misunderstand each other from ti to ti.
Ezra Payne and I have cold wars all the ti too. He doesn’t contact , I don’t contact him, but in the end, he always cos to make up first. You and Attorney Sinclair have barely had a cold war—he probably already wants to make up, looking for a chance. I bet it won’t be long before he cos to comfort you."
I gave a bitter smile. "He’s nothing like your Dr. Payne. He’s not the type to coddle anyone. And besides, this ti... I don’t want him to comfort ."
My only thought now was to get Julian out of this storm as soon as possible.
After all, all this endless gossip—whether whipped up by Timothy or Serena—had always been aid directly at , and alone.
Right then, my phone started buzzing. On the screen, "Julian Sinclair" lit up in bold letters.
I actually found myself at a loss what to do, my breath catching.
"Answer it!" Jenna, anxious, nudged . Seeing still hesitate, she just reached over and pressed the answer key herself.
The mont the call connected, Julian’s deep, faintly hoarse voice ca through: "Grandma told you moved out of The Sinclair ho?"
My nose tingled. I could only manage a soft "Mm."
He was silent for a few seconds, then asked clearly, "Are you at your own place now?"
My voice was thick with tears, trembling uncontrollably. "Yes."
"Wait for at ho."
That was all he said—not a single extra question, not a word of explanation—then he hung up.
Jenna instantly leaned over, her expression giddy with excitent: "Don’t worry! Attorney Sinclair will handle this. He’ll never throw you under the bus. Couples might fight or argue, but when trouble hits, if he really loves you, he’ll never leave you behind."
Looking at the brightness in Jenna’s eyes, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.
The way she said those words—it was like her eyes were filled with stars, so much faith and hope in love.
Anyone could see she and Dr. Payne were happy together.
As I was lost in thought, Jenna suddenly started scrolling her phone.
A few seconds later, she gasped: "Zoe, look! All those posts about you and Julian that were trending earlier—they’re gone!"
She thrust her phone before .
The tiline that had been overflowing with speculation and toxic comnts was now spotless, as if the rumors had never existed.
Jenna couldn’t help but marvel, "Attorney Sinclair moves fast! In such a short ti, every single story about you two has vanished from the web. That kind of network... it’s impressive! Zoe, if I were you, I’d hold on to him tight. With Julian behind you—whether it’s love or real life—your road will be so much easier."
Of course I knew the wisdom of sheltering under soone’s shade.
But deep down, I still felt I needed to rely on myself the most—do only what I could handle, and that would bring true security.
Jenna winked at playfully, teasing: "Looks like Attorney Sinclair is coming to comfort you soon. I’ll get out of here—I don’t want to be the third wheel!"
"Jenna, thank you."
I got up to walk her to the door, overflowing with gratitude inside.
She’d always been there for at my lowest, when I needed her most.
Jenna rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed: "With friendship like ours, a thank you is too formal! When I have kids, I’ll need you to babysit sotis when Dr. Payne and I want to be alone!"
I was a little exasperated by her and hurriedly agreed.
Once Jenna was gone, I sat back on the couch.
I took out my phone and opened all the afternoon’s tumultuous social dia sites. Sure enough, every post about had been scrubbed—no trace was left.
Julian had used the most direct, unyielding way to shut down the cyberbullying, silencing all voices.
But I knew all too well, this was only a temporary solution.
Very soon, the snide posts started flooding in:
"It sure pays to have power. Shut it down, sweep it away—no wonder uncle and nephew can share a wife!"
"Careful, or your account will get axed! With all those connections, you think a few haters scare them?"
"Get banned, who cares—I’ll just use a new account to keep talking!"
No nas, but after this afternoon’s explosive rumors, everyone knew exactly what all this filth was pointing at.
So even wrote mocking liricks, nastier than I could stand to read.
I just skimd a few lines and then instantly threw my phone onto the sofa, chest aching with suffocation.
Just then, a new alert popped up on my phone.
Timothy Xavier’s official X account had just posted a fresh statent. It was instantly reposted everywhere, creating a whole new storm.
"My wife, Zoe Ellison, has always been kind and decent—she’s never done anything to betray . I ask that everyone please show so rcy. With soone so outstanding, it’s not strange that others would covet her. But no matter what the rumors say, my wife is pure and innocent, and I trust her completely."
With that post, the internet went wild.
The comnt section erupted with speculation:
"So, is he admitting soone actually ’got with’ his wife?"
"Timothy Xavier’s a scumbag, but at least he loves his wife—still stands up for her at a ti like this!"
"What’s worse than a scumbag? Soone who steals another man’s wife! The Sinclair Family must have more power than The Xavier Family, or how could they dare go after the CEO’s woman?"
Suddenly, all the fire turned from to Julian Sinclair.
All the ridicule, abuse—even personal attacks—crashed down on him.
Julian had done so much for , yet in the end, I’d dragged him right into this cesspool.
He could’ve been The Sinclair Family’s spotless heir—the one standing at the top, admired by everyone.
And now, he’d beco the "pervy guy" getting trashed by everyone.
I didn’t even dare picture Madam Sinclair stumbling across all this filth, already sick with grief—would she survive the extra blow?
Out of patience, I dialed Timothy Xavier’s number.
It barely rang once—he picked up imdiately, his tone anxious: "Zoe, are you alright? Don’t worry, I’ll help you fix this right away."
"It was you and Serena Sawyer, wasn’t it?" I spat, my voice icy. "Timothy Xavier, you’re despicable!"
His tone turned darker, tinged with retort: "What’s that supposed to an? You think I’d cuckold myself? Am I crazy?"
"You are crazy!"
I was shaking with fury. "That post you made on X effectively confird rumors about and Julian Sinclair! Do you even realize what that ans?"
He gave a cold laugh, sending a chill through : "All I did was confirm that Julian covets you. As long as you don’t defend him publicly, no one will co after you. Or is it that you really do love my uncle, just like the rumors say—dying to be a dood pair, drowned by everyone’s spit?"
"You—"
I was about to retort, but the doorbell suddenly rang.
I hung up, walked quickly to the door.
Sure enough, it was Julian Sinclair.
But I didn’t open the door. I spoke softly through it, "Attorney Sinclair, let’s not et again from now on. Please go."
"Open the door."
His deep voice ca from outside—just two words, impossible to refuse.
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