Who Cares About Him When I'm Married to the Richest Man?-Chapter 118: Accidental Discharge

Elara was dazed, and the last bit of clarity in her mind vanished. Driven by instinct, she hugged Zion Fitzwilliam, softly murmuring, "Don’t go..."

Zion looked down in disbelief, yet wildly joyful, at the pair of hands around his waist. The pale, slender fingers intertwined, holding him tightly.

This was a scene he had dreamed of countless times, and now... it really happened; she actually hugged him!

He didn’t dare take a breath; his whole body felt like it was fried—numb and tingling. An uncontrollable urge rose from his lower abdomen. He took a deep breath, suppressing that impulse.

She’s muddled now, but he couldn’t afford to be.

She harbors no feelings for him, especially since she just stepped out of her last marriage; she cannot accept another man.

If he indulged himself, she would likely break things off once awakened.

Making small sacrifices for greater needs is his strategy; he must not be the one who picks up sesame seeds and loses the watermelon.

But logic is clear-headed, emotions are another matter. He used immense self-control to take those hands off his waist, his voice husky, not daring to look back, "Elara, stop fooling around. I’ll make you some hangover soup."

Noticing someone pulling at her, Elara tightened her grip around him, her head resting against Zion’s lower back, snuggling unconsciously, whispering, "Zion, if only you were truly my husband..."

Zion was utterly electrified by her words. He grasped her hands, turned to face her, voice hoarse, struggling to restrain himself, "What do you mean by that? Do you want to truly be married?"

Elara didn’t answer, just snuggled against his waist, her fair cheek resting perfectly on his belt. Zion chuckled bitterly, unwilling to push her away, yet unable to suppress his natural urges; he was like an ant in a hot pan.

Elara hugged his waist, then started trying to pull off her clothes, "It’s so hot."

Zion’s dark eyes flickered; he held her hand down, speaking hoarsely, "You’ve had too much to drink. I’ll take you back to your room."

Elara protested, "I’m so uncomfortable, I’m hot, help me undo it."

She grabbed his hand and placed it on her chest.

Zion’s hand froze there. Beneath his hand was warm, soft skin; he exerted all his strength to hold back. Elara, not having her needs met, continued to fuss, "Help me."

Her body hopped around on his; Zion couldn’t bear it any longer and pulled her into his arms, pinning down her flailing limbs, like he wanted to fuse her into himself. After a long while, he chuckled bitterly, "Elara, give me a break."

No longer keeping to gentlemanly manners, he bent down to scoop her up in his arms, striding into the bedroom to lay her down on the bed.

Elara was still feeling hot. Zion hesitated for a moment before deciding against testing his willpower, reaching for the air conditioner.

A cool breeze came, and Elara finally quieted down.

Zion breathed a sigh of relief, then shook his head with a smile, pulling a thin blanket over her.

Her hair was scattered across her cheeks; she seemed uncomfortable, brushing it away several times without success. Zion raised a hand to help, fingers gliding over her skin, unable to resist accentuating the touch, caressing her face gently.

Then, he lightly kissed her cheek, got up, and went to tidy up his floor mat.

After tidying the floor mat, Zion felt much calmer. He got up to go out and clean up outside. The dishes he’d made specially for Elara were thrown into the trash as she was drunk, leaving him no appetite.

The guest room door opened a crack, showing a tiny head; Joanne Carter peered out curiously, "Uncle Fitzwilliam, are you and Aunt Hale okay now?"

Zion nodded amusingly, "Mm, we’re okay."

"That’s good," Joanne said, a bit smug, "Seems my presence was worth something, at least I helped repair things between you two, right?"

Zion originally had no interest in her. To him, Joanne was merely a child Elara had adopted; he regarded her simply because she was associated with Elara.

He was a decisive businessman; kindness was never a trait he possessed. All the compassion and tenderness he had was reserved for Elara; towards others, he remained ruthless without a trace of mercy.

Yet now, seeing Joanne’s mischievous demeanor, he couldn’t help recalling the lively little girl from years ago.

Such vivaciousness in her brows and eyes, as if cut from the same cloth.

He smiled and responded to her, "Yes, your timing was perfect."

At the very least, it meant he and Elara were "cohabiting" in literal terms. He was willing to sleep on the floor so long as they shared a room.

Having received affirmation, Joanne relaxed; she had felt guilty about causing Aunt Hale so many troubles, now knowing she was somewhat useful, she felt at ease.

Actually, she only came out to ask about this; now that she knew the answer, she waved goodbye to Zion, "Uncle Fitzwilliam, you should go to bed early too."

Zion seemed to suddenly recall something and asked, "Today was your first day at school, how did it go?"

Though he didn’t explicitly ask, Joanne understood his implication. She had run into Jasmine at school today; Uncle Fitzwilliam asked if she wanted to transfer, but she refused.

She ended up being classmates with Jasmine, and because both were transfer students, the teacher paired them together.

Jasmine looked down on her, at its root, belittling Aunt Hale, ridiculing her for being thrown out by the Jacobs family. Joanne couldn’t help but argue with Jasmine.

Things escalated into a fight.

It was neither a win nor a loss since classmates called a teacher over, who then took them to the office for a lecture and had them write reflections.

Joanne secretly rubbed the bruises on her arm, aching painfully despite a day’s passing.

Yet, in response to Zion’s inquiry, she didn’t mention these events, merely laughed, "School is great. Big city schools are nice, I will cherish this rare opportunity and study hard."

Zion curled his lips slightly, watching the little girl retreat into the guest room and close the door, he lightly chuckled and shook his head.

Joanne had been placed there by his arrangement, even for Elara’s sake, he intended to take good care of her; Joanne’s homeroom teacher was a relative of his Assistant Harris, and Zion heard about the school fight right away.

However, since the young girl earnestly promised she could handle it herself, he decided not to intervene for now.

Returning to his room, seeing the peacefully sleeping face on the bed, his heart felt full; lying down, his mind was filled with the scene of Elara hugging him.

And her unconscious grip on his belt, bouncing around...

Driving him crazy.

Zion tried hard to clear those images from his mind, but her face, like a replicating image, appeared endlessly in his thoughts. Her rosy cheeks, her watery eyes looking at him, saying, Zion, if only you were actually my husband.

The fire in his heart refused to be extinguished; being single for thirty years, facing his beloved woman, who could truly keep that in check?

After a long time, Zion helplessly sighed, got up to take a cold shower.

Returning, he saw Elara had somehow unbuttoned her pants, revealing pink heart-patterned underwear halfway, determinedly struggling to remove the uncomfortable jeans entirely.

Zion groaned internally; helping was neither right nor wrong. He could only pull the blanket over her, leaving her to her own devices.

Then he went to the bathroom for a cold shower.

That night, his sleep was difficult and arduous.

Early the next morning, Elara moaned softly, painfully opened her eyes, her head dizzy and aching, and her throat dry and sore. What did she do?

Struggling to get up from bed, she went to freshen up, and upon finishing saw Zion coming out of the kitchen with a bowl of soup. Seeing her, he smiled and said, "Awake? Headache? Drink this hangover soup first."

Elara paused for a moment, recalling the events of last night.

She was supposed to celebrate someone’s salary with him, but she seemed to have drank a large glass of red wine herself, and then... got drunk?

She was quite confident in her drinking capacity and behavior. One glass of red wine would definitely be downed, and she usually had a good drinking behavior, surely she didn’t do anything inappropriate.

She apologized, "I was supposed to celebrate with you, but I ended up getting drunk myself. Did it cause you trouble?"

Zion looked at her deeply and said ambiguously, "It’s alright."

It was troublesome, but he also enjoyed it.

He handed her the hangover soup and, seeing her finish drinking, then warned, "Drinking too much makes mornings the hardest. You have no tolerance; you may feel discomfort all day today. I’ve heated up milk for you to take with you to work."

Elara quickly replied, "Okay, thank you."

Then Zion turned to bring out breakfast.

Joanne Carter also woke and freshened up.

During breakfast, Zion handed over a card.

Elara was taken aback, "What is this?"

"Salary," Zion smiled, "Remember, starting this month I agreed to let you manage my salary."

Elara was completely stunned.

There seemed to be talk of creating a complete family for Joanne Carter, living together and managing finances like a real fake marriage.

But...

Zion reminded her, "In front of the child, why are you spacing out? Quickly take it."

Elara was afraid Joanne Carter would overthink and quickly accepted it, hesitantly saying, "Well, I’ll save it all for you."

Zion laughed, "This is for household expenses, no need to save, spend it as you wish."

Elara firmly said, "I won’t spend it. You need to save some money, you’ll need it in the future."

He still needs to find a boyfriend, and he will have many expenses in the future.

Zion said, "Alright, it’s up to you."

He was happy to have found a reason to give her money.

Elara then put the card away.

After breakfast, it was the routine of Zion taking her and Joanne Carter—first dropping Joanne off at school and then taking her to work. However, today, as Elara walked into the company, she immediately saw Rosalind Jacobs approaching.

Rosalind, in high heels, stormed toward her and ferociously slammed her handbag towards Elara’s head!

Fortunately, Elara reacted quickly and dodged at the last moment. She frowned, looking at Rosalind, "What’s wrong with you?"

Rosalind stared at her fiercely, gritting her teeth, "Elara, you did this on purpose, didn’t you? You think I can’t find evidence against you, and you’ll get away with it? You sabotaged Haylie like that and expect me to cover for you? Dream on! Come, you’re going with me to the Sommers Family now to explain yourself!"

As she spoke, she reached out to yank Elara’s arm.

Elara pushed her away, perplexed, "I don’t know what you’re talking about. What happened to Haylie has nothing to do with me! You clean up your own mess, don’t drag me into it!"

With that, she started heading upstairs.

Rosalind grabbed her arm again, furiously saying, "No one else knew we were there that night, only you had the opportunity and motive! If not you, who else? Elara, stop pretending; you must give the Sommers Family an explanation for what happened to Haylie!"

Rosalind’s eyes flashed with a dark light.

That night, she had destroyed the nearby surveillance to bind Cecilia Quincy, but she wasn’t sure if Elara was involved. However, Elara must be the culprit.

Otherwise, the Sommers Family’s anger couldn’t be appeased.

Haylie’s parents had already called her brother yesterday. Last night, she was interrogated for hours, and her brother said she must go to apologize to the Sommers Family today, regardless of what they decide. She must accept it.

Because the Sommers Family stated Haylie ended up in that situation because of her, running out at midnight, and if her brother doesn’t give an explanation, the Sommers and Jacobs Families won’t cooperate anymore.

But the Jacobs Family’s electronics business relies on the Sommers Family for parts; without their collaboration, the electronics industry would collapse.

The Jacobs Family can’t afford such losses.

Although she previously attempted to blame Elara, the Sommers Family said there was no evidence; they simply didn’t believe it.

So this morning, Rosalind came to find Elara; she wanted to take Elara to the Sommers Family and have her admit responsibility.

Only then could she extricate herself.

"I don’t need to explain myself for your affairs," Elara knew her intentions but refused to cooperate, "Rosalind, everyone is accountable for their actions. You can’t always find scapegoats. Do you think everyone will indulge you?"

Rosalind glared at her; she still couldn’t adapt to Elara’s tough stance. Ever since divorcing her brother, this submissive woman seemed completely changed.

How did she not realize before that this bitch was so good at pretending!

"Elara, if you help me this time, I can help you get back into the Jacobs Family." Rosalind offered what she thought was a tempting proposition.

Her brother had completely fallen out with Cecilia Quincy yesterday; she didn’t mind using this as bait to deceive Elara into helping.

Unexpectedly, Elara laughed, "If your brother knew you used him as a bargaining chip, he’d probably have to reconsider who you are. If he knew I refused this proposition with him as the condition, I don’t know how much face he’d lose. So I advise you, stop bothering me, Rosalind, I’m not interested in helping you."

With that, she departed without looking at Rosalind again.

The morning incident was just a small interlude and didn’t affect Elara’s work. She stayed busy all morning until she suddenly received a call from Zara Dalton at noon.

Zara’s voice was mournful, "Elara, come out for a drink, buddy. This time, I’m utterly done for."