Chapter 303 He's Not Going Anywhere
His voice bore the unmistakable grogginess of early morning, drawing Winona back to consciousness. Startled, she scanned the room, the familiar surroundings gradually coming into focus.
Springing out of bed, she glanced down at her rumpled attire from the previous day, a testament to her unexpected stay. "How did I...?"
Mid-sentence, recollection dawned on her; she had dozed off on the couch the night before.
"What's the time?" With a swift motion, Winona threw off the covers, urgency coloring her actions. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"Or did you even try?" Her tone held a hint of suspicion as she locked eyes with Zachary.
As Zachary also rose from the bed, his bare torso exuding a captivating allure with its defined contours, he retorted, "I moved you to the bed from the couch. A pretty hefty task, and you remained blissfully asleep. Can't blame me for that, right?"
Glimpsing at the bedside clock, he added, "It's eight o'clock."
Realization hit her like a jolt; she was running late for work.
Choosing not to delve into the events of the previous night, Winona hastened to her closet for a change of attire. Emerging dressed, she found Zachary already groomed and ready.
"I took the liberty of calling in sick for you at the museum," he casually informed her.
Doubt mingled with surprise as Winona inspected her call log, verifying his claim with a call to Caleb at six in the morning. "Who gave you the authority to make that call on my behalf?"
The early hour and a man using her phone to report her sick—what would gossip mills make of this? Her professional reputation could be jeopardized.
"I'm heading downstairs to whip up some breakfast. Take your time getting ready. We've got company dropping by later," Zachary informed her before making his exit.
They were already divorced. What did guests have to do with her?
Disregarding his words, Winona hurriedly freshened up in the bathroom. Upon emerging, Zachary was nowhere in sight. Relieved to be ready, she ventured out of the room, only to overhear a familiar voice downstairs. "Mr. Bailey, you called for me?"
Zachary's composed voice indicated authority as he directed, "Please, have a seat. I'll be right there with you soon."
Uncertain of the atmosphere, she stood at a distance, perceiving an undercurrent of tension in the air.
Daniel, clad in mismatched attire against the lavish backdrop, hesitated to sit, feeling out of place. The previous day's dismissal weighing heavily on him, he had drowned his sorrows in alcohol until dawn, abruptly summoned to Zachary's abode without clarity..
Encountering Zachary, whom he deemed unreachable, unsettled him further, especially seeing the high and mighty man in a domestic setting, busily cooking in his kitchen.
The scent of cooking soon wafted through the villa, a stark contrast to the palpable unease in the room.
Indeed, he had recently stirred up a dust storm for Winona at the museum, dropping hints about Zachary. Today's coerced presence only cemented the link further.
A cascade of footsteps echoed overhead, prompting Daniel to startle, his gaze shooting upward.
Seeing Winona, his wildly beating heart suddenly calmed down. Suspicion turned into reality, and he wasn't as scared anymore.
Daniel said flatly, "Yesterday at the museum, I targeted you. Miss Sullivan, did you have me brought here today to get revenge?"
Winona walked downstairs at a steady pace, not even glancing at Daniel. "You should take it up with the owner of this place. I'm just a guest here."
As she stepped off the last stair, Zachary came out of the kitchen. "Come have breakfast."
Although it was just semi-prepared food that needed heating, the money spent on it made everything look exquisite.
Winona stood still for a moment, then changed direction—not to the dining room, but to the living room.
She stopped in front of Daniel. "Daniel, may I ask who reported me to you?"
Daniel snorted, turning his face away in disdain. "If you had controlled your behavior, would anyone have reported you?"
Contemplating for a moment, Winona smiled faintly, nodding in comprehension. "Makes sense. So if I send someone to beat up your wife and kids, it wouldn't be my fault, right? They must have provoked me first. Why else would I single them out?"
Daniel's gaze smoldered, breaths labored.
Zachary walked over. "Let's have breakfast first. We can talk after. He's not going anywhere."
Winona was about to refuse, but he was already leading her to the dining room. "I assume you don't want me to feed you, so I intervened. If you're okay with my aid, then continue talking. I'll bring breakfast over."
She shot Zachary an incensed glare.
Shameless.
"Daniel, think carefully. Even if I did something wrong, why didn't the person report directly to Caleb but go through you?"
Daniel hesitated, mulling over the unspoken truth. 'Because the person knew Caleb would definitely cover for you.'
Winona immediately caught on to his thoughts. "The hairpin's toast now. It got swiped from the storage room. If it stays missing too long, folks will start to wonder. Caleb can hold the fort for me for a bit, but he's not a forever fix. The messenger spilled the beans to you 'cause they knew you weren't my biggest fan. If you found out about my slip-up, you'd blow it sky-high, no doubt."
She paused, her voice easing in with a touch of persuasion. "Don't you find the timing of the leaders' visit a little too perfect?"
Zachary scowled, shooting Daniel a look loaded with impatience. If Winona didn't mind him stepping in, he wouldn't bother wasting words on someone so foolish and envious. Delegating it to his team would get things done quicker.
With that said, Winona left Daniel to stew in his own misery.
While passing the dining room trash can, her eyes landed on the untouched remains of last night's elaborate meal—whole shrimp and crabs, probably whipped up by Zachary. Observing the spread on the table, she inquired, "You can actually cook?"
Zachary arched an eyebrow. "Mrs. Bailey, I did survive nearly a year abroad. If I couldn't cook, would I have starved?"
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