Broken Oath: I Left, He Regretted-Chapter 89: Waking Up in Julian Sinclair’s Bed
Timothy had already reached out to his contacts on the way, and when we arrived at the hospital, we headed straight to the surveillance room.
However, the staff in charge of retrieving the surveillance footage seemed troubled: "I’m sorry, Mr. Xavier, our surveillance system was hacked a few days ago and half a month’s recordings have been lost. The tech department is still trying to fix it."
Timothy cast a suspicious look at me, as if I were the hacker.
I shook my head in disbelief and said, "This is wrong, this is too coincidental! There’s definitely something wrong! That woman must have issues!"
Timothy grabbed my wrist and dragged me out.
His grip was so strong it almost crushed my bones: "A coincidence? Zoe Ellison, this is clearly a show you’ve staged yourself! With the surveillance gone, there’s no proof, and you can keep fabricating, can’t you?"
"I didn’t!" The sharp pain from my wrist made my eyes well up with tears. "Timothy Xavier, be reasonable!"
"Reason?" His eyes burned with fury, almost devouring me. "Today you must tell me how Naomi truly died!"
The pent-up grievance and anger burst at that moment, and I forcefully shook off his hand.
Seeing his fearsome expression, all my questions finally spilled out: "Timothy Xavier, don’t forget you were the one who proposed to me with a diamond ring, kneeling in front of me! You keep forcing me to explain, now I want to ask you, you clearly loved Naomi Sawyer, why did you marry me then? Explain it to me!"
Timothy’s anger froze on his face, his pupils dilated, lips moved but not a single word came out.
I could clearly see the veins on his neck popping out, a sign of hitting a sore spot.
He didn’t respond for a long time, nor did he continue to press me.
I turned around and left.
As I dashed out of the hospital doors, the sunlight stung my eyes, and tears came unbidden.
I hated Timothy Xavier, and hated even more my own helplessness against him.
A rare chance for my daughter’s birthday, ruined just like this.
Who knows when the next chance will be?
Returning home, it took me a long time to finally pull myself together.
I don’t have the time to dwell in sadness, I must move forward; divorcing Timothy Xavier and regaining custody of my daughter is what truly matters.
In the days that followed, I poured all my energy into the divorce case materials.
Timothy Xavier called me several times, surely still trying to press me about Naomi Sawyer’s suicide.
But every time he called, I hung up immediately.
Until the night before the hearing, my phone rang again.
This time I answered, but I only meant to remind him not to forget tomorrow’s divorce proceedings.
The other end was silent for a moment, no response, only a faint electrical noise.
I didn’t wait any longer, simply hung up.
After all, at the cemetery that day, he personally promised he would divorce me.
...
Yet, on the courtroom day, the defendant’s seat across was perpetually vacant.
Timothy Xavier didn’t show up, nor did his lawyer.
"The defendant is absent, the case is postponed for trial."
As the judge slammed the gavel, I clenched my fingers, feeling like I punched cotton, powerless and frustrated.
Again, it’s like this!
Timothy Xavier is eternally callous and selfish; the promises he made to me have never been fulfilled!
Attorney Quincy comforted me: "Many divorce cases aren’t settled in just one hearing. Even if he came, the judge might not rule in favor the first time. Go back and talk to him properly; if one appeal doesn’t work, then twice. As long as you stay determined, this marriage will eventually be over."
"Okay."
I nodded heavily.
As Attorney Quincy and I left the courthouse and opened the umbrella.
Midwinter rain is cold and heavy, just like my mood now, gloomy and damp.
As I just got into my car, Timothy Xavier’s call came in.
I bit back my anger and answered: "Timothy Xavier, where are you? We agreed on the divorce today, why didn’t you come?"
"Come to The Xavier Manor to bring your parents back."
His voice showed no emotion, frighteningly calm.
My heart skipped a beat.
Could he have gone to The Ellison Family to complain and force them to persuade me to retract the lawsuit?
I pursued, "Explain, why are my parents with you?"
"You’ll know once you get here."
He finished speaking, sent a location, followed by a video.
Opening the video, I was instantly stunned.
At the door of The Xavier Manor, my parents knelt on the concrete ground, soaked through.
They kowtowed towards the tightly shut gate, their voices shattered by the rain, vaguely audible with words like ’please, let him go’.
I immediately slammed on the gas and returned the call to Timothy Xavier simultaneously.
The call connected quickly.
"Timothy Xavier!" My voice trembled as I questioned, "What exactly did you do to my parents? Are you even human? They’re at an age where you made them kneel in the rain!"
Timothy’s tone was cold and calm: "I didn’t make them kneel; I couldn’t get them to leave even if I tried."
Almost driven to madness, I sped up the car heading toward Timothy Xavier.
When I arrived at The Xavier Manor, the rain had not yet stopped.
I got out of the car, stepping through the accumulated water to rush to my parents’ side, helping them up, "Dad! Mom! What are you doing? Get up!"
"Zoe..." Mrs. Ellison remained kneeling, unwilling to rise, her hands cold as ice.
She clutched me tightly, saying, "Your brother... Your brother was taken away by the police this morning!"
I asked in shock, "Why?"
"Timothy said... said your brother stole secrets from his company..."
Dad gasped for breath, his voice hoarse, "Now your brother has already been locked up; the lawyer said if the charges are confirmed, it’s at least ten years in prison."
Mrs. Ellison, in tears, said, "Timothy won’t answer the phone or meet us. We really have no other choice than this!"
I abruptly looked up at the second-floor window of the villa; Timothy Xavier was standing by the window, gazing at us quietly like a beast lying in wait.
"Dad, Mom, get up first!"
I pulled them forcefully, tears finally flowing uncontrollably, "Timothy Xavier’s methods, haven’t you figured them out yet? Even if you kneel like this to death, he won’t be moved!"
The raindrops hit my face, cold and painful.
Supporting my limp parents, I said through gritted teeth, "Let’s go back first; I’ll handle this. I’ll go talk to him."
I understood that Timothy Xavier was forcing me.
He knew very well that I owe The Ellison Family for raising me, yet he let me witness the most ruthless scene, forcing me to bow down to him, forcing me to admit that I was the one who killed Naomi!
Through my insistence, I finally managed to get my parents back into the car.
I hurriedly took out a dry towel, saying, "Dad, Mom, wipe yourselves first. I’ll go find Timothy Xavier to talk."
"Zoe."
Mrs. Ellison grabbed my hand as if it was the last straw of hope, "You must... help your brother."
"Alright."
I agreed hoarsely.
Although I was angry at my brother for being entangled with Serena, getting what he deserved.
But the kindness of The Ellison Family can’t be left unpaid.
With that, I calmed my parents momentarily, walking alone into The Xavier Manor.
As I went in, Timothy Xavier had already come downstairs.
The warm fireplace glowed in the living room, its flame flickering on Timothy Xavier’s stern face.
He wore a well-made cashmere sweater, lounging lazily on the sofa, as if the scene of my parents kneeling outside to beg him had never happened.
Seeing me, soaked to the skin, he casually offered, "Do you want to take a shower?"
I clenched my frozen fingers, the water droplets on my hair falling onto the beige carpet, creating a small wet spot.
"No need! Timothy Xavier, stop pretending. You’re thrilled only when I am this miserable, isn’t it?"
Timothy Xavier squinted, "Zoe Ellison, is this how you ask for a favor?"
I took a deep breath, suppressing the boundless anger in my heart, "I know, my brother was wrong to steal your tender documents. But my parents...they..."
At this point, I held back the choke in my throat and the bitterness in my heart, "They’re so old, they’ve watched you grow up since you were little. You let them kneel in the rain to beg you. Timothy Xavier, you’ve crossed the line!"
There was no warmth in his eyes, coldly he said, "They chose to kneel; what can I do? Declan Ellison stole secrets from my company, I sued him, it’s within reason. Just like you suing me for divorce is within reason, isn’t it?"
I heard the sarcasm in his tone, I said through clenched teeth, "What do you want, just say it, don’t beat around the bush!"
He got up, slowly approaching me, his towering figure was oppressive.
"If you want me to let Declan Ellison go, you have two choices. Prove that Naomi’s death has nothing to do with you; or, withdraw the divorce lawsuit, return to this home obediently. Go to the chapel every day to kneel and spend the rest of your life atoning for Naomi’s sins."
"No way!"
I almost screamed, my chest heaving intensely.
I already lost my second child because of this unfounded accusation!
Why should he make me bear this burden for life!
Timothy Xavier chuckled coldly, turned around, and sat back on the sofa.
He, like a cat playing with a mouse, began speaking slowly, "In that case, there’s nothing left to say. As for your brother, we’ll handle it officially, follow legal procedures."
I nodded and said, "But something like stealing company secrets, my brother couldn’t have done it alone. His accomplice, did you catch them?"
His gaze was sharp as a knife, "His accomplice is you, isn’t it? Zoe Ellison, do you think I wouldn’t dare send you in as well?"
I smiled sadly, curling my lips slightly, "Of course you dare. Like you haven’t done it before. But this time, you don’t have evidence, so you can’t put me in, can you?"
His face darkened, his tone impatient, "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Do you trust Serena Sawyer so much? Her past, who she was with? Don’t you doubt any of it?"
As soon as my words fell, his voice became more severe: "Even now, you’re trying to drag others down! Zoe Ellison, you are truly hopeless!"
Having said this, he called out to the door, "Nanny Lowell, see the guest out!"
"No need, I can walk myself!"
I turned around without hesitation and stepped once again into the cold rain outside.
Back in the car, my parents were anxiously waiting for my news.
Mrs. Ellison’s voice trembled as she nervously asked, "Zoe, how is it? Has Timothy... changed his mind?"
I avoided their anxious gazes, forcing a smile, "Mom, don’t worry. Timothy asked me to meet my brother. If my brother can give up his associate, he might show some leniency."
I really couldn’t tell them that Timothy had already blocked my path.
Otherwise, I feared they might kneel again before Timothy, abandoning their dignity in futile struggles.
Mr. Ellison, upon hearing there was hope, immediately started pulling strings to let me meet my brother at the detention center.
Watching my gray-haired father so cautiously seeking favors, my heart ached immensely, yet I was powerless.
Finally, he managed to find someone, and I headed to the detention center at once.
...
On the way, the rain had stopped, and the sky was gray.
In my memories, my brother was the one who would stand up for me at school, drive away bullies, and still smile at me with bruised eyes saying ’it’s okay’.
I didn’t know when he started becoming distant, no longer caring about me, with an invisible barrier between us.
Entering the visiting room, I saw my brother through the thick glass.
The luxurious tailored suit he wore at the banquet had been replaced with prison clothes, his hair lay flat on his forehead like a defeated rooster.
I picked up the phone and spoke softly, "Brother, remember when I dyed my hair for the first time in high school? The teacher called our parents and they were so mad they almost used family rules on me. You took the cane for me and dyed your hair green the next day, infuriating them. Every time I caused trouble, you shielded me, diverting their anger onto yourself. Because of you and our parents, I never felt like an adopted child. I even think the luckiest thing in my life was meeting you all."
My brother’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, his eyes drifting away, his voice dull, "Why bring this up? Trying to use family ties to get words from me?"
Recalling the warmth of the past was twisted by my brother like this.
I suppressed the bitterness in my heart and said, "Mom and Dad knelt at The Xavier Manor for you, begging Timothy. The Serena you wish to protect is out there, gloriously building her career. She never once thought of bailing you out."
"I don’t know anyone named Serena!"
My brother stiffened his neck, yet his gaze seemed unsure, "This has nothing to do with anyone else. I was too eager for success and stole Xavier Group’s bid. I’ll face the consequences alone, you don’t have to bother about me!"
Seeing his stubbornness, I helplessly said, "Brother, what exactly did Serena fill you up with? Even the change in our sibling relationship, she couldn’t be unrelated, could she?"
My brother replied with a blank expression, "I know you and Serena are rivals. You want to frame her, go ahead. But I’m a man, I don’t go framing others. I don’t know her. You can say this a thousand times, and my answer will be the same."
I nodded, "You want to protect her, fine. But Mom and Dad are old, still running around for your issues, do as you see fit!"
After speaking, I didn’t look at him again, stood up and left the visiting room.
As soon as I stepped out, I saw Timothy standing at the door.
I hadn’t expected him to have such influence, not only knowing I was going to the detention center to see my brother, but also following me inside.
His gaze was cold, each word was delivered with precision, "I heard your conversation with your brother just now. Insisting on pinning this hat on Serena, right? Think getting rid of her will let you replace her as Doris’s mom?"
I didn’t bother with another word!
To those who don’t trust you, even if you place ironclad evidence in front of them, they’ll find a hundred reasons to convict you.
Saying more was pointless, only making myself more embarrassed.
One day, I’ll make him see with his own eyes whether the person he trusts is an angel or a demon.
I turned to leave, Timothy’s voice chased after me, mercilessly, "You think you can save your brother, do you? The loss he caused Xavier Group by stealing trade secrets is enough to bankrupt The Ellison Family and enough to sentence him for life."
I stopped in my tracks, a wave of cold surged through me, not just from chill, but from awe at his ruthlessness.
It turns out his target wasn’t only my brother, but The Ellison Family as well.
If I don’t compromise, he might gradually apply pressure until I’m cornered with no escape.
But no matter for whom, I refuse to return to that suffocating marriage.
After all, what Timothy wants has never been reconciliation; he just wants me in that chapel, day after day, atoning for Naomi Sawyer, humiliating me until I’m utterly broken.
I said nothing, lacking even the courage for harsh words, quietly leaving the detention center.
...
In the underground parking lot, I twisted the car key for a long time, the engine only making a few feeble "clicks" before completely falling silent.
I immediately pushed the car door open to check.
Eventually, I couldn’t figure out what the problem was, planning to have someone fix it.
At that moment, a unlocking sound suddenly came from the side.
I instinctively looked up and under the dim yellow garage lights, Julian Sinclair stood by his car.
Today he wore a dark gray coat, the collar slightly open, revealing the white turtleneck sweater inside, making him look even more noble and composed.
We paused simultaneously.
He nodded at me lightly and then prepared to open his car door to get in, not intending to speak much with me.
Thinking of my brother’s matter, I hurriedly said to him, "Uncle... oh, no, Attorney Sinclair, what a coincidence."
Julian paused, his gaze swept over my damp clothes and rain-soaked hair, his brows furrowing slightly.
He seemed to have read something, asking calmly, "Ran into trouble?"
This question inexplicably made the tip of my nose sour.
I nodded, my voice with a barely noticeable choke, "My brother committed a crime and got locked up. Could you... could you help? You can name any fee as you wish."
Julian Sinclair paused slightly, and asked, "What’s the situation exactly?"
This garage isn’t the place for a conversation, so I said, "It’s a long story. Are you heading back to the firm? Can I go with you and talk there?"
He looked at me, stayed silent for a few seconds, then slowly uttered two words, "Going home."
I froze instantly, awkwardly opened my mouth: "Going...going home?"
"I just got back from a business trip abroad, met with a client, very tired, not going back to the firm." His tone was flat, revealing no emotion.
I immediately said, "Then I’ll go with you to your home, just give me ten minutes, I won’t delay your rest."
He fell silent again, nodded: "Let’s go."
My car had broken down, so I had to get into Julian Sinclair’s car.
Julian Sinclair drove very steadily, just like him as a person, making one feel very at ease.
On the way, his gaze flitted to the rear-view mirror below his lenses, and he asked me indifferently, "Is the car behind us your husband’s?"
My heart tightened, looking towards the rear-view mirror.
Indeed, I saw Timothy Xavier’s Maybach following us not too close, not too far. When we turned, he turned too.
But this road was clearly not leading back to The Xavier Manor.
So, was Timothy Xavier following us?
I withdrew my gaze, expressionless, and said, "Ignore him!"
Julian Sinclair didn’t speak again, merely pressing the accelerator slightly harder, and the car continued forward.
But I gradually sensed something was off.
This road seemed to be going in the opposite direction of The Sinclair Family.
I couldn’t help asking, "Attorney Sinclair, is this...the road back to The Sinclairs?"
"I don’t have just one home in Veridia."
He spoke casually, as the car drove into a securely guarded high-end villa district.
Here, every inch of land was worth a fortune, and those who lived here were either rich or noble.
The car stopped in front of a modern-style villa, which, without excessive decorations, exuded an understated sophistication everywhere.
Inside the villa, there were no servants, just the two of us.
I felt a bit puzzled: Why did he bring me here? Although his seniority justified it, it was still inappropriate for a man and woman to be alone in a room together.
As I was letting my thoughts wander, Julian Sinclair suddenly spoke, "Take a shower first, I’ll have my assistant send over some clean clothes."
I was startled, looking at him incredulously.
His gaze fell on my drenched clothes, and he explained lightly, "Don’t misunderstand, it’s so cold, I’m just worried you’ll get sick. You don’t have to shower if you don’t want to."
"No...there’s no need," I felt my cheeks burning a bit, enduring the chill over my whole body, said "I just want to talk about my brother’s situation, I’ll leave after that."
Julian Sinclair did not insist further, turning to sit down on the sofa.
His long fingers casually loosened his tie, looking relaxed yet carrying a hint of elegance.
Then, he raised his eyes to look at me, saying, "Go ahead."
I steadied myself and began recounting how my brother was accused by Timothy Xavier of embezzling trade secrets, and was now detained, telling the story from start to finish.
From Timothy Xavier’s attitude to my brother’s stubbornness in detention, I tried to make clear all the key information.
By the end, my throat was somewhat dry, and Julian Sinclair even went to get me a glass of water.
"Thank you."
Holding the exquisite bottle of Fillico mineral water tightly, I said, "Attorney Sinclair, in my brother’s situation, do you have any solutions?"
Julian Sinclair sat back on the sofa, calmly assessing, "In such a situation, there are two paths. Either your brother produces solid evidence proving his innocence, or get Timothy Xavier to withdraw the lawsuit. If Timothy Xavier is unwilling to relent, even holding irrefutable evidence, your brother’s prison term won’t be short."
His words felt like a bucket of cold water, chilling my heart.
I looked at him, opening my mouth with a final glimmer of hope, "You’re a star in the legal field, with such a high success rate, you could..."
Before I could finish, he interrupted, "Miss Ellison, I’m a lawyer, not a miracle worker. The law demands evidence, what I can do is fight for the best interests of my clients within the rules, but cannot reverse black and white, understand?"
The last sliver of hope completely vanished.
I lowered my eyes, dully said, "Okay, I understand. Sorry for taking up your time, I’ll be leaving now."
Julian Sinclair nodded, showing no intention of stopping me.
However, just as I reached the foyer, a strong sense of dizziness suddenly overwhelmed me, my vision went black, and I fell forward uncontrollably.
Before losing consciousness, it seemed like a pair of hands steadily caught me.
...
When I woke up, I found myself lying in a soft, large bed.
The room was dimly lit, with a faint woody fragrance in the air.
The wet clothes I had on were gone, replaced by an oversized men’s shirt, the collar hanging loosely on my shoulder, carrying a strange, crisp scent of detergent.
This... Could this be Julian Sinclair’s clothes?
I sat up suddenly, heart pounding, covering my dizzy head.
What I want to know now is, who changed these clothes for me?
