Chapter 4

Jeremy returned to Clementson Bay Villa after dropping off Nadine. The large villa was pitch dark, and the silence that greeted him was unsettling.

"Jo..." he started to call out but immediately stopped himself.

Joanna had already moved out and was staying at another man's apartment. Who knew what she was doing with Elliot right now?

His features darkened with anger.

Upon seeing the darkness in the villa, Jeremy's driver, Pablo McCray, hurriedly entered and turned on the lights.

As the lights flickered on, he turned to look at Jeremy. Only then did he notice that Jeremy's face was as cold as a statue. It caused him to shiver in fear.

"Mr. Hansen, if you don't need anything else, I'll be leaving now," Pablo said, lowering his head.

Jeremy didn't like being disturbed during his personal time. All the household staff stayed in a side wing of the villa. Normally, it was just him and Joanna in the main house.

For nearly three years, whenever he was home, Joanna had taken care of everything for him—his food, his clothing, and his living arrangements.

"Okay," Jeremy replied curtly. Pablo hurried away and closed the door behind him.

Jeremy's irritation grew. He kicked off his shoes and went to change into slippers but couldn't find them. He bent down and opened the shoe cabinet. After searching, he still saw no slippers.

Irritated, he gave up and walked around in his socks. While pulling at his tie, he pressed his hand to his aching forehead.

As he entered the living room and collapsed onto the couch, he closed his eyes and relaxed into the cushions. "I have a headache. Give me a massage," he said out of habit.

He waited for several seconds, but there was no response. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and instinctively looked around for Joanna.

Then it hit him—she was gone.

He clenched his fist and punched the armrest of the couch to vent his frustration. After a deep breath to calm himself, he walked to the kitchen to get some water.

If Joanna were here, she would have already brought him a glass of water by now.

Then, he would lean against the couch, drinking his water, while Joanna kneeled beside him and gently massaged his temples with just the right amount of pressure.

Her technique was excellent.

When Jeremy entered the kitchen, he couldn't even find a glass. He searched several cabinets, but none were to be found.

The anger inside his chest surged uncontrollably, quickly reaching a boiling point.

It was easy to lose all sense of reason in moments of rage. Without thinking, he grabbed his phone and dialed Joanna's number.

The phone rang once before being answered.

"Joanna, where are my slippers and the glass? Where did you put my things?" he yelled.

The voice on the other end was not Joanna's. Instead, it was a mocking laugh from a man. "Mr. Hansen, are you still nursing, or are you unable to take care of yourself?"

Jeremy's rage flared up again at Elliot's voice. "Have Joanna pick up the phone, Elliot."

"Sorry, Mr. Hansen. Joanna can't answer right now. She's exhausted. She just took a shower and went to bed," Elliot replied with a smile. His strange tone was extremely suggestive.

With that, he hung up the phone, cutting off any chance for Jeremy to explode.

As Jeremy listened to the busy tone on the other end, he was so furious that he nearly smashed his phone.

…

Meanwhile, at Maplewood Residences, Joanna had indeed fallen asleep. After a long day, she was completely drained and had drifted off just minutes after lying down.

Elliot was worried about her, so he stayed by her side.

When he saw that she had fallen asleep, he was about to leave, but her phone rang. Without thinking, he quickly grabbed it and answered the call, then swiftly left Joanna's bedroom.

After hanging up, he quietly glanced at Joanna to make sure she hadn't been disturbed. He muted her phone and placed it down before leaving for his apartment on the 37th floor.

Joanna woke up at 6:00 am the next day, thanks to her internal clock. She pulled back the covers and got out of bed to head toward the bathroom.

After walking a few steps, she suddenly realized something and stopped. She let out a self-mocking laugh.

She had developed a habit of serving Jeremy. Despite being kicked out, she was still thinking about making breakfast for him.

But now, she would no longer have to wake up early to make breakfast. In fact, she no longer had to do anything for him at all.

From now on, everything she did would be for herself and the babies growing inside her.

She lay back down, but sleep eluded her.

Since she couldn't sleep, she decided to grab her phone, lean back against the headboard, and start going through documents.

Several wealthy women wanted to place custom orders for her company's products. Her assistant, Skylar Hines, had sent over detailed reports of their skin testing and product preferences just the afternoon before.

Her clients were all extremely wealthy, so Joanna personally reviewed the details of every client and their custom orders. After all, each client's custom orders amounted to millions of dollars every year. There was no room for error.

Just as she was focused on the files, her phone rang. It was Jeremy.

She stared at the word "honey" flashing on her phone screen for a few seconds before finally answering the call.

"Joanna," came Jeremy's deep, angry voice.

"Yes, Mr. Hansen?" she asked lazily.

When Jeremy confirmed it was Joanna who had answered, he let out a sigh of relief. However, his tone remained harsh as he snapped, "Where did you hide my cufflinks?"

Joanna was taken aback by his question.

Hadn't he moved out of Clementson Bay Villa?

Then again, it made sense. He just didn't want to see her. Since she had already moved out, there was no longer any reason for him to leave.

"The third drawer under your tie rack. If you can't find them, you should ask Ms. Kinsey," Joanna replied.

As soon as Joanna finished speaking, Jeremy abruptly hung up.

Joanna stared at the screen, speechless. He really had gotten used to treating her like a maid.

After taking a deep breath, she went back to reading the documents. But just two minutes later, Jeremy called again. She hesitated but picked up.

"Where are my starry night cufflinks? Why can't I find them?" he demanded, this time with a slightly more subdued tone.

Those were the cufflinks she had given him two years ago. She had never really seen him use them, so why did he suddenly think about them today?

"All your cufflinks are in one place. If you can't find them, ask Ms. Kinsey," she said before hanging up.

On the other end of the line, Jeremy's frustration reached new heights when he heard the busy tone.

It was early in the morning, and something as trivial as searching for a belt, socks, and cufflinks had already left him frazzled.

After rummaging through a pile of cufflinks, he still couldn't find the pair of starry night cufflinks he wanted. In the end, he simply rolled up his shirt sleeves, grabbed his suit jacket, and headed downstairs.

"Mr. Hansen, breakfast is ready." The housekeeper, Polly Mason, stood respectfully to the side as she saw Jeremy come downstairs.

Jeremy nodded curtly and sat down at the table.

The breakfast spread was filled with his usual favorites—things Joanna used to make for him. The coffee was also ready.

He let out a deep sigh, lifted the cup, and took a small sip of the coffee.

As soon as the coffee hit his mouth, he immediately wanted to spit it out. But out of basic manners, he forced himself to swallow it.

"What kind of coffee beans did you use? This tastes awful," he asked Polly. His face was dark with displeasure.

Polly, trembling, answered, "I-It's the same beans Mrs. Hansen used, and I followed her method to brew it."

Brewing coffee required precise technique and careful attention to water temperature. Different coffee beans required different brewing methods and temperatures.

Frowning, Jeremy looked at the coffee in his cup and took another sip.

The taste was even worse. It was unbearable, and he couldn't even swallow it. He immediately spat it out and slammed the cup back onto the table.

Polly, standing nearby, watched in fright and quickly lowered her head.

Jeremy forced himself to calm down and picked up a piece of fried egg.

It was just a simple fried egg, but as soon as he bit into it, he realized it didn't taste like what Joanna used to make for him. The egg was cold, lacked the runny yolk, and had no flavor at all.

He no longer had any appetite.

Putting down his fork, he grabbed his suit jacket and left without a word. His expression remained stern.

Polly, sweating with fear, immediately called Joanna.