Chapter 550 Blind to Reason
Jacob slumped into his car, lost in thought for several moments before reaching for the cigarette pack on the center console. His fingers trembled as he lit one, the pale blue smoke blurring his vision and clouding his mind with memories of Nicole—their past together, the stark reality of her marriage, and those final, devastating words: "Jacob, I'm married."
Yes, she was married. He had humbled himself completely, willing to overlook even that fact if it meant having her back. But she didn't want him—she refused to return. Since she wouldn't come willingly, why should he continue this pathetic pursuit? It was time to salvage what dignity remained.
After finishing his cigarette, Jacob called Amelia and gave her the address of his private villa—a property he rarely used.
An hour later, at the villa, the master bedroom on the second floor told a story of interrupted passion. A wine glass lay overturned on the carpet, deep red liquid staining the pristine white like drops of blood, creating an almost decadent tableau.
The woman gazed at him with unspoken invitation, her voice husky as she called his name. "Jacob."
Jacob stared at the alluring woman before him, his rational mind insisting that Amelia was perfect for him—that he should complete this final step, marry her, and finally free himself from the prison of his past. But despite all his self-convincing arguments, he couldn't overcome the psychological barrier. He couldn't forget those six years with Nicole.
For a moment, Amelia's seductive features transformed into Nicole's face, and Jacob felt his world tilt. When reality reasserted itself and Amelia's face came back into focus, he reached for another cigarette, smoking slowly while an impenetrable melancholy settled over his features.
Amelia wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Everything was fine just a moment ago. Jacob, what's wrong?"
Jacob held the cigarette between his long index and middle fingers, his blue eyes downcast as he studied the woman in his arms. Amelia's voluptuous figure was undeniably more sensual than Nicole's from a purely physical standpoint, and she certainly aroused him.
But she wasn't the right person, and he had no desire to make love to her, despite four years of self-imposed celibacy.
"Let's call off the engagement." Jacob leaned forward to extinguish his cigarette, then gently moved Amelia aside. He began dressing with clinical efficiency, showing no embarrassment at his nudity but also treating her with complete emotional detachment—otherwise, everything would have reached its natural conclusion moments ago.
While Amelia sat in stunned silence, Jacob had already restored his impeccable appearance. He wrote out a substantial check and handed it to her with genuine regret. "I can't marry you. Consider this compensation for my failure."
Amelia stared at the $200 million check, then looked up at him with quiet intensity. "Is this because she's back? Jacob, she's married—to Theron. His power rivals yours, so what makes you think she'll divorce him for you? Can't you see reason?"
"Yes. I know. I don't want to see reason." Jacob answered all three questions in rapid succession, then repeated softly, "I don't want to see reason."
With that, he left the master bedroom, giving Amelia privacy to collect herself. As he reached the door, she hurled something at him in fury, screaming, "Jacob, you bastard!"
Downstairs in his car, Jacob called Anya with cold precision. "I need you to investigate Theron's past—everything about his private life, before and after marriage. Prepare a comprehensive report."
Anya's shock was audible through the phone. After years of working for him, she immediately understood his intentions—he planned to steal Theron's wife.
"Mr. Windsor, she's married," she reminded him carefully.
Jacob's voice turned icy. "If she's married, why did you seek her out? Why did you tell her those things?"
Anya found herself speechless.
Jacob's laugh was bitter. "She got married. She can get divorced."
Anya thought he'd lost his mind. "Your parents will find out eventually. They won't let you destroy her marriage."
Jacob sat motionless in his car, his expression blank. "They won't know. Not yet."
Left with no choice, Anya complied. By evening, she had sent Jacob an email containing Theron's complete private history.
Jacob scanned through it rapidly until one name caught his attention: Ondine Lestrange—Theron's first love.
As twilight painted the sky, Nicole was absorbed in her painting when her phone rang. Theron's voice carried that distinctive masculine tenderness. "Would I have the honor of taking you to dinner?"
Nicole's heart fluttered as she walked to the window and looked down to see a black Bentley parked below. Theron stood beside it in a perfectly tailored black suit and matching overcoat, phone in hand as he gazed up at her window. The evening breeze played with his hair and the edges of his coat, and his lips curved in a gentle smile.
In that moment, Nicole's happiness took on tangible form. She waved at him and pointed to herself, mouthing the words, "Would you like to come up?"
Theron's smile deepened as he deliberately drew out his response. "Would that be appropriate, Mrs. Voss?"
Nicole blushed deeply. Though they'd been married for two years and had been intimate just the night before, they'd never engaged in this kind of playful flirtation. Her shyness only made her more irresistible to him, and his gaze grew impossibly tender.
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