Chapter 523 Fell Down
When Winona spoke, the woman couldn't help but glance up at the ceiling and, sure enough, spotted two cameras aimed right at her.
Her face went stiff, and the tears that were about to fall just hung there. She shot Winona a look full of resentment, swallowed her anger, and turned to leave.
She had thought Winona wouldn't make a scene in front of everyone, so she had said those things to provoke her. But Winona didn't play by the rules and acted without hesitation.
After sending the woman packing, Winona walked back to Matthew. The black pepper sauce on his shirt had dried, making a noticeable stain on the light fabric. She said, "Sorry about your shirt. You should go upstairs and rest for a bit. I'll find you a change of clothes."
Matthew glanced at Winona's ankle. Even though she tried to hide it, he could tell her walk was a bit off. He said, "I'll have someone else get the clothes. Your ankle is sprained, and you shouldn't be in heels. Let me help you sit down, and I'll get someone to bring you a pair of flats. What size do you wear?"
Winona looked down at her shoes. The heels were low, and even though her ankle was sprained, she could still walk. Besides, she was planning to leave anyway. "No need to trouble yourself. I'll just..."
Before she could finish, Matthew reached out and pulled her. "Watch your step; don't step on it!"
The waiter had cleaned up the steak and pasta that had fallen, but some sauce residue was still there. Winona had seen it, but since Matthew was standing so close, she wanted to create some distance and planned to step over it.
However, Matthew misunderstood and thought she hadn't seen it, so he reached out to pull her.
Even though he only grabbed her wrist, Winona felt a jolt like she'd been electrocuted and instinctively pulled her hand back. She also reflexively glanced in Zachary's direction.
Earlier, when Matthew had supported her, she felt a gaze on her, intense and ever-present. But when she looked up, the gaze was gone.
Zachary was holding a wine glass and chatting with someone. Maybe sensing her gaze, he looked up in her direction.
Their eyes met.
Next to him, Timothy smirked at Winona, looking innocent and playful. For some reason, he didn't turn to Zachary when he spoke but looked at Winona, saying each word slowly, "Winona is looking at you."
He spoke so slowly that even if Winona didn't understand lip-reading, she could guess what he was saying from his exaggerated lip movements.
Zachary's reaction was indifferent. After a brief acknowledgment, he looked away. Just then, someone came over to talk to him, and he turned to engage in conversation.
Timothy watched Zachary's back, clenching his teeth. This was the reaction he wanted, but he couldn't shake the feeling it wasn't genuine.
Could the hypnosis have worn off? Or had Zachary been playing him all along?
As he mulled over this, Timothy's gaze hardened, and a cold aura surrounded him."Hey, Nicholas," Timothy started, about to ask Zachary if he really didn't care at all, but something else caught his eye, and his smirk grew even colder.
Zachary turned back, his eyes filled with barely contained impatience. "What is it?" he asked.
Timothy shrugged. "Nothing, just felt like calling your name."
After Zachary looked away, Winona did the same. Matthew noticed her hesitation and didn't push it, calmly pulling back his empty hand. "I'll go upstairs and change," he said.
Winona nodded. "Alright, thanks for earlier," she said, gesturing to his stained shirt. "And sorry about that."
Matthew's gentle facade cracked a bit at her polite words, revealing a hint of hurt. "Winona..."
His voice tightened. "You don't need to be so formal with me. You know I'd help anyone in that situation."
Without waiting for her response, he turned and headed for the elevator.
Winona wanted to tell Lydia she was leaving, but after scanning the hall, she didn't see her. If Lydia had been around, she would have stepped in when Winona was being bullied.
Evander was deep in conversation, his expression serious. Winona didn't want to interrupt, so she decided to leave and text Lydia later.
As she reached the door, a waiter hurried over, looking anxious. "Miss Sullivan, Ms. Lydia fell in the back garden. Our staff helped her to a room upstairs to rest, but she said her back hurts. Should we take her to the hospital or call a doctor?"
Winona's worry spiked. "How did she fall? Is it serious?"
The waiter explained, "It snowed outside, and we didn't clear it in time. Ms. Lydia went out to make a call and slipped on the gazebo steps."
Winona asked, "Which room is she in? I'll go check."
"1702. You can go straight up. Our staff is still with her." The waiter then hurried back to work.
Winona rushed upstairs.
The Bailey Group had booked the entire hotel, and most guests were in the banquet hall downstairs. The 17th floor was quiet. Room 1702 was in a corner, the door slightly ajar, with no sound coming from inside.
Winona didn't enter right away but knocked on the door. "Lydia, are you in there?"
No response.
Winona frowned. The waiter had said the staff were inside, but it was too quiet.
Worried something might have happened to Lydia, she pushed the door open but left it slightly ajar.
Winona didn't go further in; she just stood at the door. "Lydia?"
The room was empty, the bed neatly made, and even the two paper swans at the foot remained untouched. Yet, someone was inside, taking a shower. The sound of water splashing against the floor echoed softly.
Something felt off. Winona knocked on the bathroom door, calling out, "Lydia?"
A few minutes later, the frosted glass door slowly opened, revealing the person inside.
Downstairs.
Timothy idly twirled his wine glass, the amber liquid swaying and reflecting the overhead lights onto his hand. He stared in the direction where Winona had disappeared. "Winona really cares about Mr. Watson," he said. "As soon as she heard he was in trouble, she rushed upstairs, looking all worried."
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