Chapter 23 Mr. Jennings, Please Behave
Quinley tensed, spinning around sharply.
"Mr. Jennings?"
Zachary had been on a business trip for a week—they hadn't seen each other in a while.
Quinley stood at the entrance to her apartment building, a single incandescent bulb overhead casting a hazy glow that formed a soft, blurred halo around her head. After just one week apart, she seemed noticeably thinner, her small face even more pointed, making her eyes appear larger by comparison.
Zachary didn't move closer. With his tall frame, he looked down at Quinley from above. "You went to the Davis Group?"
He cut straight to the point, asking even though he already knew the answer.
"Yes." Quinley didn't try to hide it. There was no point—Rosewood City's business circle was small, and both companies were industry leaders. They were bound to cross paths eventually.
"Working in PR?" Zachary pressed further.
He didn't show a hint of emotion, but Quinley could still sense the underlying anger simmering beneath the surface. She had once been his executive secretary—privileged, powerful, the picture of success. And now here was Quinley, reduced to working PR at some other company.
In the business world, everyone knew everyone. Apex Global Group had such a massive reach that Quinley had frequently accompanied Zachary to high-profile events. If someone recognized her, it would be tantamount to humiliating him. Quinley might not care about her reputation, but Zachary still had his to consider.
But sometimes, when it came to survival, reputation became a luxury you couldn't afford. Quinley had her own reasons—she just wasn't willing to share them with Zachary.
"Yes."
"Quit." Zachary issued his command.
Quinley wasn't surprised. This was classic Zachary—domineering, controlling, completely autocratic in his approach. What he didn't want her to do, she absolutely couldn't do. But that was before.
Quinley hadn't forgotten that she was no longer Zachary's secretary, and no longer his lover either. They had no relationship anymore. She didn't need to tiptoe around him or accommodate his every whim.
"Mr. Jennings, you're overstepping."
Quinley's gentle reminder inadvertently triggered something explosive in Zachary. The anger he'd been suppressing all evening finally erupted.
"You're throwing your life away!" He pronounced his judgment on her.
She was abandoning her promising position as his secretary to work PR at some shell company under the Davis Group umbrella. If this wasn't self-destruction, what was?
Quinley slowly lifted her head to meet Zachary's gaze. His eyes were deep and dark as the night itself, two flames burning fiercely in their depths, growing more intense by the second. Quinley's lips curved into a faint smile.
"This isn't the first time I've thrown my life away, Mr. Jennings. Why act so shocked?"
Three years ago, she had climbed into his bed and become his secret lover—wasn't that throwing her life away too?
Quinley's implication was crystal clear, and Zachary understood immediately. Her words were gasoline on fire. The flames in his eyes blazed higher as his large hand shot out, clamping around Quinley's slender neck. His fingers tightened slightly, the pressure overwhelming.
Quinley was so thin that the veins in her neck quickly became visible, and her cheeks flushed red. As the sensation of suffocation crept in, she didn't cry out for help or try to push him away. Quinley simply looked at Zachary calmly, letting the fire in his eyes consume her. But the calmer she remained, the more furious he became.
A shadow suddenly descended over her. Before Quinley could react, Zachary's lips crashed against hers.
Her lips were soft, carrying that familiar sweet fragrance that Zachary knew so well. It had been a while since he'd touched her, and Zachary momentarily lost control. His heated tongue forced past her teeth in a consuming kiss that threatened to take her right there on the spot.
Quinley tried to evade Zachary's kiss while pushing against him with her hands. The difference in their strength was too great—she was no match for him at all. His technique was masterful, and Quinley gradually felt her knees go weak, a dizzy, floating sensation washing over her.
Worst of all, her body began to go limp, and she felt the treacherous urge to kiss him back. Zachary was Quinley's first lover, the man who had molded her. Her body and soul had both been shaped by his hands. This was how Zachary had claimed Quinley's heart in the first place.
For three years, she had used logic to restrain all her emotions. But emotions were like wild beasts—there were always moments when control slipped.
For a woman, the most precious thing in the world was love. To love someone required both action and words. But for Zachary, love was a burden, a shackle. He would show it through his actions but refused to say a single word about it.
When she had brought up separating, he hadn't even tried to make her stay. She was leaving, yet here he was, unable to let go. Was it because of love? Quinley didn't believe that. He probably only loved her body!
Zachary cried out sharply, shoving Quinley away as he pressed a hand to his lips, coming away with blood. Quinley had bitten him, and hard.
"Mr. Jennings, please show some restraint."
Quinley's eyes were calm as still water. She looked at Zachary as the turbulent waves in her heart finally settled. Without sparing him another glance, she turned and walked away with her back straight, disappearing into the elevator under his watchful gaze.
Ruthless and cold—she played the part perfectly.
The elevator shot up to the twenty-sixth floor, and Quinley hurried into her apartment. Through the balcony window, she looked down to see Zachary's departing figure as nothing more than a small dark shape.
Missing someone was only human nature. After all, you'd feel sad saying goodbye to a pet after three years, let alone someone you'd spent every day with. But people couldn't let themselves be trapped by habit. When it was time to leave, you left. When it was time to let go, you let go.
On the drive back, Zachary was clearly in a foul mood. He leaned against the backseat, brow furrowed, eyes fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. The streetlights were bright, illuminating familiar sights wherever he looked.
He wasn't a sentimental person—he treated everyone with the same cool detachment. Perhaps this had to do with his upbringing. He'd been separated from his mother at age three and never received much maternal love. Because of his mother's situation, he naturally didn't receive William's affection either. As for William's new wife, she had always kept her distance from him. At twelve, he'd been sent abroad alone, with no real friends to speak of.
As an adult working at Apex Global Group, many people tried to get close to him—some to curry favor for personal gain. Similarly, others would try to harm him for profit. He was used to going it alone, avoiding both exploitation and betrayal.
Quinley had been the exception—like a ray of light illuminating the cold darkness in his heart. But that light had only stayed with him for three years.
"Mr. Jennings, Ms. Parker has called several times. She says she's sick and wants you to come over." Lucas reminded him.
Zachary said nothing, but his brow furrowed even deeper. He and Sylvia weren't particularly close. They'd had little contact in childhood, only becoming more involved after he returned to Rosewood City.
Sylvia had remained a widow all these years and wasn't doing well. Because of what had happened back then, her own family had disowned her out of shame. She had no friends, no relatives—Zachary was her only hope.
Out of filial duty, Zachary treated her reasonably well. He'd bought her a mansion, assigned staff to care for her, and ensured all her needs were met according to her preferences. The problem was that Sylvia wasn't content to stay quiet. She was always scheming to clear her name from the scandal of years past. And Zachary was her weapon in the battle against the Jennings family.
Zachary was well aware of all this, which was why he deliberately maintained his distance from Sylvia.
Lucas waited for a while, and when Zachary didn't respond, he took it upon himself to drive to Sylvia's villa. The housekeeper opened the gate, and the car drove straight into the courtyard.
"Mr. Jennings, thank goodness you're here. Ms. Parker has had a headache all day." As soon as Zachary got out of the car, the housekeeper rushed over to greet him, leading him inside while describing Sylvia's condition.
"Has a doctor seen her?" Zachary inquired.
"Yes, he said it's her old condition—she just needs to rest and take care of herself."
By the time they finished talking, Zachary had reached the living room. Sylvia was curled up on the sofa with a thin blanket draped over her. Her complexion looked terrible—sallow and haggard, as if she'd aged significantly overnight.
"Zach, you're finally back." Sylvia's voice was choked with emotion when she spoke.
Zachary sat down on the other end of the sofa, his expression cool and distant. "Didn't I tell you to stop overthinking everything? Why don't you take better care of yourself?"
Sylvia lowered her eyes, looking dejected. "Isn't everything I do for your sake? If you could just secure that position, would I need to worry about so much?"
Under the banner of looking out for him, Sylvia had indeed done quite a few things. But among those actions, some were supposedly for his benefit—help he didn't need or want. Others were clearly for her own purposes, though she thought he didn't know.
"Whether or not I can secure that position depends on my own abilities. Stop making things worse for me." Zachary picked up an orange from the fruit bowl and slowly peeled it before handing it to Sylvia.
She accepted it, breaking it into segments and eating them one by one. Zachary's expression might be cold and his words few and harsh, but he had a soft heart.
Sylvia knew his nature. She sighed deeply and said, "I'm someone the Jennings family cast out. How could I possibly help you with anything?" She was reopening old wounds, trying to pierce Zachary's heart with pain. Mother and child were connected—if she hurt, she wanted Zachary to hurt too.
"You should marry Alicia soon. The Davis family has substantial power. Once you marry Alicia, no one will be able to shake your position." Sylvia was playing her cards strategically.
She understood Zachary, but not well enough. He hated being controlled by others.
"I have other business to attend to. I'm leaving now. Take care of yourself and get better." Zachary's expression darkened. He stood abruptly and strode toward the door, only to run into Alicia at the entrance.