Chapter 53: Chapter 52
Simon Lockwood hadn’t held back, sending the man flying several meters. After a heavy THUD, Ryan Lawson collapsed, clutching his stomach and howling in pain. Two bodyguards dragged him out like a sack of trash.
Simon Lockwood’s expression was absolutely frightful. Not wanting to risk his wrath, the others quickly made their excuses about having company business to attend to and beat a hasty retreat.
Joanna Kennedy took a moment to compose herself in his arms, the panic slowly receding. She didn’t realize when she had started tightly clutching his shirt.
The moment she realized, Joanna Kennedy hastily let go. His shirt was now creased.
She shot Simon Lockwood a panicked glance. Seeing no obvious disgust on his face, she finally let out a breath of relief. She lowered her gaze, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you..."
As the alcohol took hold, a faint blush spread across her face and down her pale neck. Her head was spinning, and she could barely stay upright, desperately trying not to make a fool of herself in front of Simon Lockwood.
But the strong stench of alcohol clinging to her and her tear-filmed lashes gave her away.
Simon Lockwood said nothing, simply looking down at her for a long moment. He watched her sway from side to side but made no move to help, his voice cool and detached. "You’re drunk."
He paused for a beat before adding, "It’s a disgusting smell."
Even in her muddled state, Joanna Kennedy could detect the cold disgust in his tone.
A dull ache quietly bloomed in her chest.
Joanna Kennedy hadn’t wanted to cry in front of Simon Lockwood—it was just too weak. But perhaps it was the alcohol, because she couldn’t hold back the tears. They streamed from her red-rimmed eyes, and her voice was thick with emotion. "...I’m sorry."
"He... he said he wouldn’t let me leave if I didn’t drink. I... I never used to drink..."
’So pathetic,’ Joanna Kennedy cursed herself internally. Six years had passed, she’d been through so much, yet in front of Simon Lockwood, she still felt just as wronged as ever.
She loathed this side of herself and scrubbed roughly at her tears. The delicate skin around her eyes grew red and raw, making for a truly pitiful sight.
Simon Lockwood’s expression darkened. He pulled her hand away. "Stop that."
Joanna Kennedy was still sniffling but stopped struggling, obediently letting him hold her hand.
After a long moment, Simon Lockwood said, "I’ll take you home."
Joanna Kennedy wanted to refuse, but when she met Simon Lockwood’s cool, detached gaze, she didn’t dare say a word. She simply followed behind him.
The car was silent save for the sound of their soft breaths. With her mind clouded by alcohol, Joanna Kennedy watched the man’s profile as he drove, feeling utterly disoriented, as if she were lost in time.
Simon Lockwood seemed to be in a foul mood. The veins on his hands bulged as he gripped the steering wheel, his brow was tightly furrowed, and a heavy, oppressive aura radiated from him.
Ordinarily, Joanna Kennedy would have noticed, but she wasn’t clear-headed enough at the moment.
She recalled the past, back when she was pursuing Simon Lockwood for a mission. She had been relentless, never knowing the meaning of shame, daring to say or do anything.
When had she started holding back? Joanna Kennedy couldn’t remember.
Alcohol always makes one more sensitive. Every instance of Simon Lockwood’s coldness and impatience since they had reunited flashed through her mind like a movie. Her eyes reddened uncontrollably as she felt the silver bracelet through her thin jacket.
She turned her head to look out the window, missing the way Simon Lockwood’s expression suddenly darkened.
The black car pulled into an exclusive villa district where land was worth its weight in gold. For a long time, no one got out.
In the dim, quiet car, Simon Lockwood’s gaze fell upon the girl sleeping beside him, an unreadable emotion swirling in the depths of his eyes.
The girl in the passenger seat was sound asleep, her long, curled, damp lashes casting faint shadows on her fair skin, which was still flushed a deep crimson.
She had cried so hard that the redness at the corners of her eyes had yet to fade.
Simon Lockwood had always known that Joanna Kennedy was a coward who just put on a brave face, but he never imagined she could be bullied into such a state.
’Didn’t she leave me for a better life? So how did she end up like this?’
For a moment, Simon Lockwood recalled the last banquet: the girl’s chafed red wrists, the frayed seams on her white gown. Then, the events of the evening flashed through his mind.
He closed his eyes, forcing down the storm of violence brewing within them.
The next morning, the aftereffects of her drunken night were on full display. The moment Joanna Kennedy pried her eyes open, she was hit with a splitting headache.
She froze for a moment, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.
’166, did Simon Lockwood bring me here?’
’Yes. This is where the male protagonist lives.’
’Simon Lockwood’s home...’
Joanna Kennedy got up and threw back the covers. A pair of pink slippers sat by the bed. She hesitated for a moment before slipping them on.
It was a three-story villa with a backyard. Standing on the second floor, Joanna Kennedy could see someone watering the garden below.
She went down the stairs but saw no sign of Simon Lockwood, only that breakfast was laid out on the dining table.
The cook saw her come downstairs and immediately greeted her with a smile. "I wasn’t sure what you like to eat, Miss, so I made a little extra. Please, just have whatever you like."
"...Thank you. Where’s Simon Lockwood?"
"Sir has already left for the office."
"Oh..." A hint of disappointment touched Joanna Kennedy’s face as she nodded.
She didn’t have much of an appetite. She finished a small bowl of porridge and didn’t want to eat anymore.
"Is that all you’re having?" the cook asked, trying to persuade her to eat more. Joanna Kennedy managed to force down an egg.
The cook was busy cleaning up and wouldn’t let her help, leaving Joanna Kennedy feeling restless and out of place.
It would be rude to leave right after eating, so she waited a while before finally getting up to announce her departure.
Her head was still throbbing, so she decided to ask for a day off from the set. The director had a notoriously bad temper, and Joanna Kennedy was bracing herself for a lecture, but to her surprise, he agreed readily. His tone was so pleasant it was almost suspicious, and he even told her to take care of herself.
Joanna Kennedy: "?"
After hanging up, she frowned, completely bewildered.
It wasn’t until she got back to her dorm that she understood what was going on.
Shannon Lewis, who hadn’t shown her face in over a month, was sitting in her dorm. Julie was standing beside her.
’Are they here to call me to account?’
When she saw her, a smile suddenly broke out on Shannon Lewis’s usually severe face. "Joanna, what are you doing back so early?"
’What does she mean by "back so early"?’ Joanna Kennedy had no interest in small talk. "Ms. Miller, what brings you here today? Is there something you wanted to tell me?"
"Did President Lawson complain to you? Did he tell you to blacklist me?" Joanna Kennedy’s tone was laced with undisguised sarcasm.
"Oh, come on... what kind of talk is that? We could blacklist anyone, but never you." Shannon Lewis chuckled and lowered her voice. "Besides, there is no ’President Lawson’ anymore."
"What do you mean?"
Shannon Lewis said, "You don’t know? The Lawson family’s company went bankrupt. The banks are hounding them for their debts now!"
With a knowing look on her face, she added, "I never expected you to get connected with the head of Southland. You should have said something sooner! I just got the scripts for a few new roles. I’ll send them all over to you in a bit. Take your pick..."
Shannon Lewis was still rambling, having clearly misunderstood her relationship with Simon Lockwood. Without a second thought, Joanna Kennedy rushed to clarify, "I have nothing to do with the president of Southland."
’Nothing to do with him? Would he help you otherwise? Bankrupt the entire Lawson family overnight? As if anyone would believe that.’
