Chapter 544 Jacob, I Got Married 1
Theron was six years her senior.
They had been married for two years—a union devoid of romantic passion, yet surprisingly comfortable in its companionship. To Nicole, Theron embodied both husband and family, and she harbored a genuine fondness for him. When he mentioned looking forward to their reunion, she couldn't help but smile softly. "Which day are you returning? Shall I pick you up at the airport?"
On the other end, Theron paused for a moment before turning to his secretary, Eulalia Montclair. "When's my private jet scheduled?"
"Sunday evening, sir."
Theron mouthed silently, "Change it to Friday."
Eulalia raised an eyebrow in surprise but immediately flashed an OK gesture, signaling she could handle the arrangements—whatever it took to help her boss pursue Nicole.
A subtle smile graced Theron's features, transforming his face into something devastatingly handsome. Even Eulalia, a married woman herself, found herself stealing another glance as he spoke into the phone. "Nicole, I'll see you Friday."
After ending the call, Nicole set down her phone and absently touched the jasmine petals nearby. Her feminine intuition whispered that Theron's early return to Evergreen City might be because of her, though their two-year marriage had seen little romantic development beyond occasional companionship. She was probably overthinking things.
Nicole stretched languidly before heading to the kitchen, where she prepared pan-seared foie gras and a fresh salad. After her simple meal, she settled into her painting routine—whether abroad or at home, her life remained beautifully uncomplicated, devoted largely to her art.
Once, Theron had called her his "industrious little bee" in front of guests, his expression tender and warm. The memory brought a gentle smile to her lips; most recollections involving Theron were pleasant, even delightful.
Her phone chimed. Expecting flight details from Theron, she glanced at the screen only to find a message from an unknown number—four simple words that made her blood run cold.
Jacob: [Long time no see.]
Under the lamplight, Nicole's face drained of color. She neither replied nor returned to her painting. Instead, she poured herself a glass of red wine and stood by the window, gazing into the night as her mood plummeted like a stone into dark water.
Four years had passed, yet Jacob could still shatter her composure with a mere four words, demolishing all her carefully constructed emotional defenses. Why would he send such a message when he clearly had someone else in his life?
The following days passed without further contact from Jacob—no messages, no calls. It seemed their chapter had finally closed, buried beneath the weight of time.
Friday afternoon arrived, and Nicole went to meet Theron at the airport. She never imagined that the Windsor Group represented Theron's investment target, nor that Jacob would personally handle the airport reception.
One relationship, three people—a perfect storm of emotional devastation.
The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension.
Theron noticed Nicole's pallor and gently drew her close, his arm protective around her shoulders as he extended his other hand to Jacob with a gracious smile. "Mr. Windsor, your reputation precedes you. I'm Theron Voss, and this is my wife, Nicole Mitchell."
Jacob's eyes darkened as he studied Nicole—the legendary Mrs. Theron standing before him. She was married. Actually married.
She stood beside Theron in a soft green knit dress that made her look youthful and endearing, while Theron wore a complementary green shirt. They appeared to be wearing coordinated outfits, a perfectly matched couple.
So it wasn't some Sebastian, some minor talent agent after all. This was Theron—the legendary venture capital titan worth over $120 billion, ranked 32nd on the global wealth index. Most remarkably, he was entirely self-made, having achieved mythical status in financial circles by age twenty.
She had chosen such a formidable man. No wonder she hadn't returned for four years.
While he had waited in vain, she had already become Theron's wife.
Pain lanced through Jacob's chest, but he managed a composed smile as he shook Theron's hand. "Jacob Windsor, President of the Windsor Group. On behalf of the company, I welcome you to our negotiations. I hope our discussions prove fruitful."
"Absolutely," Theron replied with polished confidence, then offered an apologetic smile. "I hope you don't mind postponing our business until tomorrow, Mr. Windsor. My wife and I haven't seen each other in quite some time, and I'd like to take her to dinner. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder."
Jacob's gaze fixed on Nicole, his voice turning glacial. "Of course not."
He stepped back with practiced elegance, as though their shared history had never existed, never been real.
In that moment, his hatred for her reached its zenith. She had been married all along, while he remained pathetically trapped in love and resentment.
Nearby, Anya watched with complex emotions. She still carried guilt from that fateful day—if only she hadn't taken leave, perhaps Jacob and Nicole would have children by now.
At the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in Evergreen City, in the presidential suite, secretary Eulalia meticulously pressed her boss's suits and shirts in the walk-in closet, carefully arranging his expensive accessories with devoted attention to detail.
The opulent dining room featured an elaborate spread of French cuisine that Nicole was still savoring.
Theron stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, coffee mug in hand, quietly observing Nicole. As a businessman, his gaze typically carried the weary satisfaction of material desires fulfilled, but when he looked at Nicole, something entirely different flickered in his eyes.
Nicole didn't know that he had seen her before—at a Christmas ball in England years ago, a night forever etched in his memory.
She had worn a butter-yellow gown adorned with feathers at the hem, looking so young and innocent she resembled a charming duckling, awkward yet utterly endearing. He had smiled countless times that evening.
But when Jacob appeared, she remained glued to that radiant young man's side. They were clearly lovers, their every gesture radiating the sweetness of young romance. Later, they moved to the terrace, and he found himself following, only to witness their kiss.
She had trembled as she held Jacob, her porcelain skin luminous in the moonlight.
She wasn't the most beautiful woman there, but in Theron's eyes, she was absolutely radiant—so much so that he began believing in love at first sight.
But she had a boyfriend, and his demanding career left no time for pursuit. He didn't even learn her name.
That grand, silent infatuation remained just that—unrequited and eventually forgotten as he moved on to other relationships.
He never expected to encounter her again. Years later, when he spotted her amidst conflict and chaos, his heart still raced with the same intensity, still found her luminous and captivating.
Without hesitation, he had proposed—using the most desperate of pretexts.
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