Chapter 85 Bad Luck Looms for Capricorn
Timothy had just finished recounting the story about Emma when Elizabeth pulled out her phone to check the time. It was already late.
She slid both hands into the pockets of her coat. "Good night. I've got work tomorrow."
Her heels clicked briskly against the floor as she walked away without hesitation.
Timothy remained seated, alone at the table, silence settling around him like a heavy blanket. Tonight wasn't supposed to end like this. Wasn't he supposed to be invited upstairs… to share the same bed… and make love?
His eyes followed the sway of Elizabeth's departing figure, the confident stride, the curve of her hips. He studied her attitude, tasting the subtle flavor of her mood.
She was jealous.
The next morning dawned bright and clear.
Elizabeth had decided she would ride her red electric scooter to work. On her way out, she stopped to knock on Mabel's door.
Mabel shuffled to the door, hair a mess, eyes half-shut. "Capricorn," she teased, "today the stars say your wallet and career are in luck. Maybe you'll get that raise."
Elizabeth smiled faintly. "Alright. Remember to get up and eat something by ten. I'm heading to work."
Mabel nodded, closed the door, and shuffled back to bed.
Elizabeth changed her shoes, tucked her helmet under one arm, and left.
The red scooter wove smoothly through traffic, a streak of color against the gray morning commute.
Far away, in another country where night had already fallen, Armando paused over his phone. A photo of Elizabeth riding her scooter through the city streets filled the screen. He stared at it for a long moment.
He swiped to the next image—Elizabeth sitting in a park beside Timothy.
Armando's gaze cooled, a shadow passing through his eyes.
Bronte, in her final moments, had once told him: never regret the choices you make.
In the Johnson family, no one had ever understood Armando better than the wise Bronte.
He deleted the photo of Elizabeth and Timothy together, keeping only the ones of her alone.
Only weak men regret.
Armando's nature—cold at the core, predatory by instinct—would never change. While Bronte had been alive, he'd restrained himself.
Elizabeth carried a stack of files into her office. After setting them down, she was about to leave when Yosef called out to her.
Leaning back in his chair, he regarded her steadily.
Robert had phoned Yosef in the middle of the night to discuss Timothy's dinner invitation from the previous evening. The complication lay in Emma's intentions.
"Ms. Penrose, bring Jasper, the chief financial officer, here."
Elizabeth nodded.
By midday, Opal called Elizabeth from downstairs. "There's a woman named Natalia here asking to see you."
Elizabeth had anticipated that since deciding to sue Calista, members of the Howard family might try to cause trouble.
"Don't see her. Have Isaac escort her out. Thank you."
Opal agreed, hung up, and pressed the intercom to summon Isaac.
The lobby was busy at lunchtime, people coming and going. Natalia, escorted out by Isaac, looked stunned.
"Don't lay a hand on me. I'll call the police and report you for harassment."
Her eyes were red, her neck stiff with defiance. She was beautiful, and in another situation, someone might have felt pity.
But Isaac was on TechStrong's payroll. Pity had no place here.
"Madam, please don't make a scene. This is TechStrong," he said firmly.
Natalia's voice trembled. "I'm not here to cause trouble. I'm here to see my sister, Elizabeth."
Isaac glanced at Opal. Opal's tone remained polite. "Madam, Ms. Penrose said she doesn't wish to see you."
So this was Elizabeth's sister.
Employees passing through the lobby slowed to watch, curiosity flickering in their eyes.
Natalia's face was tight with worry. "I really have urgent business with her. I came to tell her, on behalf of our mother, that we're sorry. Madam, please call Elizabeth again."
Family matters spilling into the office were never a good look.
Elizabeth, receiving Opal's second call, understood Natalia's real aim—to humiliate her.
"No. Thank you."
Opal hung up, repeating Elizabeth's refusal to Natalia.
Natalia covered her face and began to cry. "How can she do this? That's her mother. How can she sue her own mother over a photograph?"
The family drama involved Elizabeth's lawsuit against Calista. But what kind of photograph could drive Elizabeth to such a decision?
Emma had been in the lobby for a while and had caught enough of the conversation to piece together the outline. She pulled a packet of tissues from her bag, handed one to Natalia. "Don't cry. Wipe your tears. I'll take you to see Ms. Penrose."
Opal and Isaac recognized Emma as a member of the Sutter family—Yosef's relative. If Emma wanted to bring Natalia upstairs, they wouldn't stop her.
Natalia noticed Opal's respectful demeanor toward Emma and adjusted her own tone. "Thank you, Ms. Sutter."
"You're welcome. Dry your eyes. Come with me," Emma said with a warm smile that softened her features and made her seem approachable.
Natalia nodded and followed Emma toward the elevators.
The small crowd that had gathered dispersed reluctantly.
Inside the elevator, along with Emma and Natalia, were three TechStrong employees.
Emma lowered her voice. "Can you tell me what the photo is? Ms. Penrose suing her own mother… that's unusual."
Natalia hesitated.
"It's alright if you don't want to tell me," Emma said gently. "Ms. Penrose is actually a very kind person. You should talk things through."
"It's not that I can't tell you… it's just a photo Elijah took of Elizabeth when she was ten. None of us expected Elijah to be so malicious."
Natalia abruptly stopped, having already revealed the most important part. The rest was left to the imagination.
A ten-year-old girl… and malice. The implication was disturbing.
The three employees in the elevator exchanged shocked glances. Elizabeth's childhood had been far harsher than they'd imagined.
Emma's lips parted slightly, her expression tightening. "Sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
Natalia, sensing their misunderstanding, quickly added, "Nothing happened to Elizabeth."
The elevator chimed, and the three employees exited.
Emma and Natalia continued up to the eighteenth floor.
Jasper emerged from the chairman's office. Elizabeth handed him a signed document and walked him to the elevator, pressing the button for him.
"Thank you, Ms. Penrose," Jasper said with a smile.
Elizabeth's professionalism was impeccable. She always carried herself with humility—a necessary trait in the workplace.
As the elevator doors opened, Elizabeth saw Emma and Natalia. She kept her expression neutral, watching Jasper enter the elevator before turning to Natalia.
Emma spoke first. "Sorry, Ms. Penrose. Ms. Howard was crying in the lobby, and everyone was staring, so I brought her up. I thought you could talk."
Elizabeth smiled faintly. "That was considerate of you, Ms. Sutter."
Emma returned the smile. "Ms. Penrose, this is TechStrong. Try not to let family matters spill into the office. I'll leave you to it—I need to find Yosef."
Elizabeth's lips curved in a silent laugh.
Once Emma was gone, Elizabeth's gaze settled on Natalia. "Now that you've achieved your goal, you can leave."
Natalia blinked. "Elizabeth, what are you saying? I came here to apologize on behalf of Mom. She only pretended to use the photo to threaten you. She'd never actually make it public."
Elizabeth arched a brow. "Are you brain-dead? You're the only one who'd believe that."
Natalia fell silent.
Yosef and Emma emerged from the office. Yosef glanced at Natalia, then turned to Elizabeth. "I'm eating lunch outside."
Elizabeth nodded.
Emma smiled at Elizabeth before joining Yosef in the elevator.
Natalia, realizing her mission was complete and unwilling to endure more of Elizabeth's sharp tongue, stepped into the elevator with them, her eyes flicking toward Yosef.
Elizabeth went alone to the cafeteria. In the short time it took to eat, rumors of her possible molestation by Elijah during childhood began to circulate quietly among TechStrong employees.
As Yosef's attractive secretary, Elizabeth was well-known.
"I can't believe Ms. Penrose had such a tragic childhood."
"That Elijah is disgusting."
"I heard she sued her own mother."
"Why?"
"No one's sure."
Even in the restroom, Elizabeth overheard fragments of gossip. The pity in their voices didn't touch her.
She didn't need their sympathy. As long as her heart remained strong, the past was just that—the past.
Soon, a headline appeared online: #Armando's Ex-Wife Elizabeth Was a Victim of Child Sexual Abuse.
Whoever posted it had no conscience, using such a story for clicks.
Anything involving Armando and Elizabeth drew attention, and someone forwarded the news to Sherry.
Sherry read it and burst into laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Della, buy trending spots for this story. Get it to the top of the list fast."
Della stared at the screen. "Elizabeth's childhood was really that bad?"
Sherry sighed. "She's just unlucky."
When Timothy saw the headline, who knew what he'd think? With his wealth and status, he might find Elizabeth beneath him. And Armando—his reaction was anyone's guess.
The hashtag soon hit number one.
In elite circles, the sentiment was unanimous: Armando was unlucky. Elizabeth's reputation took another hit.
Beatrix, once again the target of ridicule among society's women, was furious.
Elizabeth had nothing to do with the Johnson family anymore.
Beatrix stormed into TechStrong. "Tell Elizabeth to come down here."
Dressed head-to-toe in luxury, the embodiment of aristocratic pride, Beatrix's tone made Opal bristle, though she didn't dare show it.
"May I ask who you are?" Opal said politely.
Beatrix's face was cold. "Her ex-husband's mother."
Elizabeth already knew about the trending story. She continued working calmly, showing no sign of embarrassment.
Beatrix's visit was nothing more than an attempt to make the Johnson family look bad again.
Elizabeth's reply was simple: "No."
TechStrong wasn't the Johnson Group. Without an escort, Beatrix couldn't get upstairs.
In the end, Beatrix left, seething.
Elizabeth smiled to herself, pulling out her phone to text Mabel: [Darling, your prediction totally flopped — I've been collecting little mishaps like souvenirs today.]
Elsewhere, Timothy stepped out of the hospital. Joe opened the car door for him, but before he could get in, his phone rang.
The caller ID read: Border Ridge City.
He answered.
"Timothy, I won't allow you to marry that woman. If you truly like her, let her be your mistress—keep her outside the family."
It was Manuel, Timothy's father, the current head of the Robinson Group.