Chapter 40 She's No Simpleton

A cursory glance at her phone revealed the blinking name 'Xena Sackler,' disrupting Paige's current state of mind.
She silenced the phone with an irritated flick, and peace resumed.
Undisturbed now, she continued to modify her lock-picking tool.
Yet shortly after, her phone rang out again.
Paige’s patience was waning. Casually, she silenced her phone once more, only to have it ‘ding’ a third time.

It was a message from Xena Sackler.
Bridal store, 2 p.m. tomorrow. Absent or 1min late, and I can’t guarantee if you will ever gain access into the facility again.'

Xena’s haughty tone, brimming with threats, absolutely infuriated Paige.
She couldn’t stand being threatened, and yet her predicament demanded tolerance. Her mother was still at the facility, trapped in slumber, and Paige had no choice but to endure.

Bridal store?
She quickly deduced that the impending nuptials between the Carnegie and Sackler families were drawing near, and Xena Sackler, was showing off by insisting she accompany her for bridal dress shopping, rubbing it in her face.

2 p.m. tomorrow... To hell with 2 p.m.! Despite the mountain of work at her company, this despicable woman still managed to monopolize her time.
She had critical matters to attend to, while Xena Sackler occupied her time with frivolous displays of vanity.
The more Paige thought about it, the more loathsome it all seemed.
Paige was a far cry from the person she had been five years ago.

With the slightest turn of her thoughts, a smirk curved on her lips. She snatched up her cell phone and shot a text to Xena Sackler confirming, "Will be there on time."

No sooner had she sent the message than Raymond knocked twice on the door, announcing, “Bathroom’s free.”

The sudden sound startled Paige, causing her phone to slip from her grip and tumble onto the bed.

Her reaction was swift; she stashed away her toolkit in a heartbeat, no need for the average, handsome Mr. Carnegie to uncover her rather unique skills in lock-picking.

How would she ever explain that? It would probably scare the daylights out of him.

In Paige's eyes, Raymond was a straight-laced, middle-aged soul, so upright he couldn't manage to find a wife. A youthful mishap had him coddled by his family to the point of fragility.

Incapable of so much as washing dishes or cutting vegetables, he may have been thirty, but he was raised in the lap of luxury.

Now married to her, Raymond should remain under her protective wing.

With her things hidden, Paige hurried out.

Raymond, hair still damp, reached for a drink in the living room.

He stretched to grab a bottle from the top of the fridge. Paige walked over and handed him one.

"It's getting chilly, you should dry your hair quickly so you don't catch a cold."

After giving him the water, she turned and fetched a hairdryer from the bathroom.

Raymond stole a glance at Paige, who nonchalantly and efficiently pushed his wheelchair aside, plugged in the dryer, and began to work on his hair.

"I can do it myself."

He tried to take the hairdryer from her.

"Don't think twice about it," Paige said without a second thought. "I'm faster, and after all, you're beat from working late. Just leave these trivial things to me."

True to her word, she quickly dried Raymond's hair and wheeled him into the master bedroom. Helping him from his wheelchair to the bed, she then left, closing the door softly behind her.

Raymond pondered: was her guilt making her so attentive?

The next morning, Paige made it up early, making breakfast as usual. Apart from Raymond's shifting mood, Paige did everything at home, nothing out of the regular, meticulous and attentive to every nuance.

She even placed a shelled egg on his plate.

Raymond cast a quick glance at her, an enigma wrapped in a riddle.
Paige caught Raymond giving her a deep, lingering look and asked, "Is there something on my face?"

Raymond shook his head, "Still arranging flowers at the villa today?"

"Yeah, isn't that the drill every day? What's up?" Paige responded, a touch of curiosity in her tone.

"Getting used to working in a place like that?" Raymond probed further.

"I've been used to it. The pay is good, and the work is easy..." Paige replied.

Raymond cut her off, "What's the last name of the villa's owners?"

The shift in his tone wasn't inquisitive this time; it carried a warning.

Paige took a bite of her food and after swallowing, said, "Their last name is Jobs. Why? Do you know them?"

Hearing the name 'Jobs,' Raymond abruptly looked up, his eyes wide with astonishment.

How could Paige possibly know that the villa was owned by a Jobs? Mid-hill Villa was well-known, but in the whole of Northwind, few beyond those who had dealt with the property's legal documents were aware that it belonged to a Mrs. Jobs.

Even the staff working inside the villa thought the homeowner's name was Carnegie, and Sean had made it clear no information should slip out to Paige.

So how on earth did she know the house belonged to a Jobs?

"What's up? Is there a problem?" Noticing Raymond's strange expression, Paige couldn't help but asked.

Raymond just shook his head, his spoon clinking softly against his bowl.

Paige had done her homework; she was well aware that the villa was registered under a lady, Ms. Jobs.

And because of this, she never suspected any connection between Mid-hill Villa and the Carnegies, nor did she associate anything with the Carnegies.

Raymond's eyes churned with a stormy intensity. Laying down his utensils, he declared, "I'm full. Nearly late for work. I'll head down first to wait for Charles."

Paige didn't suspect a thing and rose to see Raymond out.

Charles had just arrived at the entrance of the apartment complex. Paige watched the car pull away before heading back upstairs to clean up.

Meanwhile, in the car, Raymond brooded, his forehead creased with concern. Charles, focused on driving, had failed to notice Raymond's sour mood until he spoke up, making it clear it wasn't a good day to cross him.

"Keep an eye on the house surveillance system. I want to know what she's up to today," Raymond instructed.

Charles instinctively knew that the woman in question was "Paige." Glancing through the rearview mirror, he shot Raymond a quick look.

He couldn't resist asking, "Raymond, what if you tell her that's your house, that the room she's trying to break into is your room..."

Raymond's face was stern as he cut Charles off, "What she's after isn't my room, it's the Jobs family's master bedroom, the real owner’s room!”

It was as if something had collapsed inside Charles' chest. He nearly slammed the brakes and stopped the car right in the middle of the morning rush hour, which could have caused an accident!

Swerving the steering wheel, Charles pulled over to the curb and turned incredulously to face Raymond.

"Raymond, are you saying that madam, she knows that Mid-hill Villa’s real..."

With a disdainful snort, Raymond's aura turned frosty, "I underestimated her. Even Louis was in the dark about the Jobs family owning Mid-hill Villa, but somehow she found out. She's here for the secret funds that disappeared ten years ago!"

Charles was startled, "This is..."

Charles didn't possess Raymond's composure.

Raymond gave Charles a stern warning glance, "What's there to panic about? Go and find out who sent her!"

Charles took a deep breath, "Sir, madam's background seemed so straightforward. Our preliminary investigation was spot on. Abandoned by the Sackler family in the countryside as a child, she grew up among very ordinary folks. She returned to Northwind at eighteen and, within days, was sent to prison..."

Charles also realized that Paige's upbringing seemed unexceptional.

Plain as they come, someone like Paige should be beyond suspicion.

Raymond interrupted Charles, "Start with the prison!"

"At once!" Charles acknowledged.

Then, he ventured another question, "Madam will surely try to break in again; should we get Sean on it in advance?"

Raymond furrowed his brows, slightly shaking his head, "Don't alert anyone. Allow her to initiate an action. I want all the information on her from the prison within a day."

Charles understood. Only with the details from the prison could Raymond decide on the next move.

Suddenly, Charles thought of another pressing issue.
Paige and Raymond had tied the knot, and to the world, they seemed merely husband and wife in name. But in truth, they were very much married in every sense of the word.

One had to suspect that Raymond, who usually played it cool and detached in public, was actually hooked.

After all, with his personality, could a mere order from Bradley have compelled him to marry someone against his will?

He wasn't the type to be meek.

Yet here he was, hitched, and only now realizing that his wife was everything but straightforward!

This was turning into a real mess.

Noticing Charles spacing out, Raymond's patience was wearing thin, "What are you waiting for?"

With a burst of courage, Charles turned his head and inquired, "Raymond, what if she is a spy?"

Raymond queried, "Who?"

"Your wife," said Charles.

Raymond only gave Charles a glance and said no more.

It wasn't until Charles had driven a good distance that the gravity of the situation hit him...