Chapter 211: Chapter 209: How About I Offer Myself to You? (Part 1)

He was also willing to play along with her antics. Seeing her smile made him happier than anything, though he didn’t show it so obviously.

**

Last night, Mrs. Grant waited a long time in Catherine Callahan’s room, but when she didn’t return, Mrs. Grant went back to her own room to rest.

It wasn’t until the next day that she learned Catherine Callahan still hadn’t come back.

Then, she received a call informing her that Catherine Callahan was about to be sent home. She had tried to jump off a bridge to commit suicide but had been successfully stopped.

Hearing this, Mrs. Grant’s resentment vanished, replaced by a pang of heartache.

After waiting for about ten minutes, she indeed saw her return.

"Cassandra!" she cried, using the alias Catherine Callahan was currently going by, and rushed forward to grab her hand.

"You silly girl, what could possibly be so bad that you’d try to kill yourself!"

Mr. Grant was also startled when he heard this.

"Suicide?"

"If it wasn’t for my birthday, maybe Charlotte Young wouldn’t have died here. It’s my fault. I’m sorry." Catherine Callahan was in tears, looking utterly pitiful.

Mrs. Grant sighed. "How could this be your fault? The elevator incident was an accident. You can’t be blamed for it."

Mr. Grant quickly agreed.

The couple comforted her for a while. Then, using the excuse of going upstairs to change, Mrs. Grant and Catherine Callahan returned to her room.

Mrs. Grant closed the door and took a deep breath. "Catherine, you scared me to death."

"Godmother, I’m sorry. I don’t know why this happened. The elevator was clearly fine. I have no idea why something like this would occur."

Mrs. Grant said dejectedly, "If I had known this would happen, I never would have let those shady people repair the elevator. They probably broke it on purpose, which is why the accident happened."

Catherine Callahan’s eyes darted. "Godmother, just pretend you don’t know anything about this. Otherwise, if it gets blamed on you, the consequences will be dire."

"Of course I know. I wouldn’t breathe a word about this even if it killed me. The family has already paid Charlotte Young’s parents three million to get them to drop the matter. And let me tell you, Catherine, the Young family isn’t rich at all. It was all for show. Some socialite—she completely fooled you."

Catherine Callahan feigned surprise. "How could that be?"

"I know, right? Anyway, don’t do anything foolish again. If your parents ever come back, I’d have no way to explain this to them. Go take a nice bath, eat something, and get some rest. Don’t worry about anything else. I’ll handle it."

Catherine Callahan said gratefully, "Thank you, Godmother."

After she finished speaking, Mrs. Grant went downstairs.

Tomorrow was Herman Hawthorne and Zoe Ellsworth’s wedding.

For the media, the lack of prior evidence of the two of them together meant they were missing a lot of juicy news.

However, that didn’t diminish the public’s interest in the couple.

That evening, with their wedding just a day away, Zoe Ellsworth got permission from Mrs. Ellsworth and drove to Herman Hawthorne’s place in the Riverbend District.

Downstairs from his apartment building, she made a point to call Herman Hawthorne. When she found out he was with Ethan Ellsworth and Quentin Grant, Zoe Ellsworth went up with a clear conscience.

Nora Ainsworth had temporarily lived here before, but she had stayed in a unit on a high floor of a different building. Herman Hawthorne had sold that apartment and bought this one on a lower floor. The door didn’t need a key, only a password for entry.

She got out of the elevator and stood in front of the door. After a moment’s thought, she started to enter Herman Hawthorne’s birthday, but before pressing the last digit, she quickly deleted it. ’No one would be dumb enough to use their own birthday as a password,’ she thought. ’That’s just asking for a burglar to waltz right in.’

She thought for another moment, and just as she was about to try another password, the door opened.

Standing before her was none other than Jasmine Walsh, whom she’d met once. Zoe recalled leaving this very woman stranded after getting out of a car—and it was on that same night that he had said he wanted to marry her.

’Could this woman be an old flame of his?’

Zoe Ellsworth took a closer look and said, "You’re Herman’s... subordinate?"

"Yes." Jasmine Walsh didn’t want to admit it, but there was no way around it. It was the truth.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

Jasmine Walsh recognized her instantly. She was burning with envy, jealousy, and hatred, but there was nothing she could do.

"With the password, of course."

"The password? Don’t tell me Herman gave it to you. No way. As far as I know, he’s out drinking with my brother. I’ll just call him and ask." The moment she finished speaking, Jasmine Walsh panicked. "Don’t call him!"

"What’s the password?" she demanded, confident she would get an answer.

Jasmine Walsh answered honestly, "818818."

"818818? How do you know that?"

"I saw the number by chance in the boss’s notebook once when I was in his office. I memorized it, and I didn’t expect it to actually be the door code."

Zoe Ellsworth smirked at her. "You’re quite the schemer, aren’t you? Are you in love with Herman?"

Jasmine Walsh’s face flushed slightly, but she didn’t hide it. "Yes. I’ve been in love with our boss for a long time. For several years. My feelings have never changed."

"But all your efforts will be for nothing tomorrow. He’s going to be my husband."

Jasmine Walsh was resentful. "So what? Plenty of men cheat on their wives these days, don’t they? You can get married, and you can get divorced."

"That’s other men. He wouldn’t."

Jasmine Walsh looked at her mockingly. "I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Our boss is a man, too. And every man is capable of it."

Zoe Ellsworth’s heart tightened. "I said he wouldn’t, and he won’t! Now get the hell out, or I’m calling Herman right now!"

Jasmine Walsh turned, put on her shoes, and grabbed her bag to leave. When she reached the elevator, she looked back. "Miss Ellsworth, you’re younger than me, after all. Let me give you some advice: don’t covet someone who doesn’t belong to you. And you’d better be prepared for a divorce, because I’m not giving up."

Zoe Ellsworth spun around. "If you’ve got the balls, then don’t run! See if I don’t smash that filthy mouth of yours! You bitch!"

The words had barely left her mouth when the elevator doors closed.

Fuming, she stormed inside, slamming the door behind her. Zoe Ellsworth took out her laptop, sat on the sofa, and played some online games for a while. An hour later, she called Herman Hawthorne, only to find out he wasn’t coming back here tonight. He was staying at the Hawthorne Residence instead.

Zoe Ellsworth felt she had come for nothing. She changed her shoes, went downstairs, got in her car, and left.

She drove to Tempting Lips.

Just as she entered and was about to head upstairs, she saw a familiar face by the bar.

Her ex-boyfriend, Jason Irving.

Although they had only dated for a few days, she’d heard the rumors long ago. He worked here as a male escort, entertaining rich, older women—drinking, dining, and having fun with them. He was living a life of utter indulgence.

Seeing him, Zoe Ellsworth ignored him completely.

"Zoe Ellsworth!!!"