Chapter 23: Chapter 23: The Good Mr. Hawthorne Who Cooks a Meal and Waits for His Wife
### Chapter 23: The Good Mr. Hawthorne, Who Cooks and Waits for His Wife
「The next morning.」
When Maxine Rhodes got up, breakfast was already on the dining table.
Everything was just how she’d been liking it lately.
Ethan Hawthorne sat across from her, reading the financial paper. The morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, outlining him in gold.
She sat down, feeling a little apologetic. "The housekeeper could have made all this. You really don’t have to go to the trouble of preparing it yourself, Mr. Hawthorne."
Ethan Hawthorne looked up from his newspaper, his tone even. "It was no trouble."
Of course, he would never admit that he had remembered a preference she’d once mentioned offhandedly and had even canceled his morning conference call, all just to create this brief, twenty-minute window to spend with her.
Maxine Rhodes said no more and ate quietly. The atmosphere between them was harmonious.
First thing in the morning, Benjamin Sterling had just sat down in his office when Rose Joyce came in, carrying a cup of coffee and an exquisitely wrapped gift box.
"Benjamin, here’s your coffee."
She then placed the gift box on his desk, her voice deliberately hesitant. "This... Director Young asked me to give it to my sister."
Benjamin Sterling glanced at the box, his brow furrowing instinctively. "What is it?"
Rose Joyce acted as if it took all her courage to hand the box over, her voice laced with feigned reluctance. "Director Young was very insistent... He said... he said it’s a very personal gift, and he hopes my sister will use it before bed. To help her sleep well."
Benjamin Sterling frowned as he took the box. It had the delicate feel of velvet.
He opened it. Inside was a bottle of aromatherapy essential oil, intricately decorated with sculpted roses.
’Giving her something like this... This goes way beyond a professional thank-you gift. It’s more like a provocative yet caring present between lovers!’
Rose Joyce carefully watched Benjamin Sterling’s expression instantly darken, and she decided to strike while the iron was hot.
"Director Young is so incredibly thoughtful when it comes to my sister. Sending something so personal, so... intimate..."
She paused at the perfect moment, leaving endless room for his imagination. "My sister has been under a lot of stress lately, so maybe having someone care for her so meticulously is a good thing. It’s just... Benjamin, it really hurts me to see this. You and her were together for five years. How could she accept someone else’s affection so quickly? And if word of this gets out, what will people think of her?"
Benjamin Sterling stared at the essential oil, his mind already conjuring images of Maxine Rhodes and Finn Finch flirting intimately.
Jealousy, anger, and humiliation burned through him like a toxic fire.
He slammed the lid shut with a sharp SNAP, his knuckles turning white from the force.
"This thing," he said, his voice hoarse with suppressed rage, "I’m confiscating it! Don’t you dare mention a single word of this to her!"
With that, he tossed the box into the trash can by his feet.
"Of course, Benjamin. I’ll do as you say."
Rose Joyce nodded obediently, but a vicious, triumphant glint flashed through her eyes—her scheme had succeeded.
「Hawthorne Group.」
Erza Sinclair placed a file on Ethan Hawthorne’s desk and began her routine report. "Mr. Hawthorne, there’s been some activity regarding The Sterlings. Benjamin Sterling seems quite displeased with Miss Rhodes’s professional association with Director Finn Finch of Apex, and his mood has been unstable. Also, that Miss Rose Joyce has been visiting The Sterlings’ offices frequently."
Ethan Hawthorne looked up from his documents. There was no surprise in his eyes, only a knowing chill.
"Finn Finch?" he asked, his tone level as he searched his memory. "If I recall correctly, he got married last year. His wife is a piano teacher, and they are very happy together. He even made a point of bringing her to the Hawthorne Group and Apex golf outing last month."
Erza Sinclair was taken aback, surprised that Mr. Hawthorne remembered such a minor detail so clearly.
A smirk touched Ethan Hawthorne’s lips. "My wife knows how to separate business from her personal life, and she has a good sense of propriety. As for that idiot, Benjamin Sterling... it seems his last lesson wasn’t harsh enough."
Erza Sinclair immediately understood. "Shall we teach him another lesson?"
"No need." Ethan Hawthorne’s gaze was sharp as a hawk’s, radiating absolute control. "He’s not worth my effort."
He picked up another document, his tone returning to its usual calm. "The acquisition proposal for the land in the east district—what’s its status?"
Erza Sinclair immediately refocused and began reporting on the next item.
For once, Maxine Rhodes got to leave work early.
She pushed open the door to her apartment at Cloudview, and as always, the entryway light was on, casting a warm glow.
But unlike other days, the rich, welcoming aroma of a home-cooked meal washed over her.
She followed the scent and the subtle sounds of movement toward the open-plan kitchen.
And then, she saw it—a sight that made her stop dead in her tracks.
Ethan Hawthorne was standing at the kitchen island, his back to her.
He had traded his usual, immaculate suit for a soft, dark gray cashmere sweater, an apron tied neatly around his waist.
His head was slightly lowered, and his profile looked exceptionally soft in the warm light. He was focused on tasting the soup in the pot, his movements deft and natural.
On the counter, several dishes were already plated: three-cup duck, steamed beef, sweet and sour pork with pineapple, crab roe tofu soup...
Every single one was a favorite of hers—dishes she loved but rarely ordered because they were too complicated to make.
In that instant, Maxine Rhodes felt something gently nudge her heart. A bittersweet warmth surged up without warning, making her nose tingle.
She was so used to facing everything alone, to coming home to a cold, empty apartment after a long day and ordering simple takeout.
She had never imagined that in this marriage, which had started as a mere contract, someone would be standing under a warm light, wearing an apron, and cooking a table full of all her favorite dishes just for her.
As if sensing her gaze, Ethan Hawthorne turned around.
When he saw her, his stern features instinctively softened under the warm light, like ice beginning to thaw.
"You’re back?" he asked, his voice low and tinged with a relaxed, domestic air. "Just in time. Let’s eat."
There was no showing off, no extra words, as if this were the most ordinary of days.
Maxine Rhodes stood rooted to the spot, her throat tight. All the sharp, eloquent words she wielded at the negotiation table failed her now; she couldn’t get a single one out.
She looked at his brow, slightly flushed from the heat of the stove, and an unprecedented warmth enveloped her.
She took a deep breath to still the fluttering in her chest and walked over to him. Her voice, softer than she intended, asked, "Do you need any help?"
Ethan Hawthorne set the soup bowl on the table and looked up at her, a faint smile in his eyes. "No."
He paused, his gaze lingering on her face, and added softly, with a hint of deeper meaning, "Just having you home is enough."
Under the warm lights, Ethan Hawthorne casually used the serving chopsticks to place a deboned piece of fish in Maxine’s bowl.
"Work has been hectic lately, so I haven’t been able to get away. I left early today. From now on, I’ll try to make time to cook for you more often."
Maxine took a bite. The fish was tender and perfectly cooked.
She looked up to meet his calm gaze and offered a polite, distant smile. "It’s delicious. But you really don’t have to go to all this trouble, Mr. Hawthorne. Our contract doesn’t require any of this..."
Hearing the word "contract," Ethan Hawthorne frowned. Before she could finish, he interrupted her by placing another piece of the dish she had already sampled twice into her bowl.
"It’s no trouble," he said, his low voice carrying a gentleness that brooked no argument, effectively deflecting her politeness. "Eat."
Maxine wisely decided not to press the issue and focused on her meal.
Ethan Hawthorne watched her, his fingertips tracing the rim of his glass. His tone was casual, but his question was pointed. "By the way, I recall Director Young and his wife’s first wedding anniversary is coming up. I heard Mrs. Young is flying in from Jaxen just to be with him..."
