Who Cares About Him When I'm Married to the Richest Man?-Chapter 182: A False Alarm

Mason Jacobs paused, his good mood abruptly halved, and frowned at Rosalind Jacobs, "You’ve seen Mrs. Grayson? What did she say?"

Rosalind replied pensively, "The Fitzwilliam Consortium in America, the holding group of fushenlia, the matriarch of the Fitzwilliam Family is also the matriarch of the Fitzwilliam Consortium, and Zion Fitzwilliam comes from there."

Mason felt he understood each word Rosalind said, but together, he seemed not to comprehend.

"This is the publicly available information about the Fitzwilliam Consortium," Rosalind handed over the pad, smiling bitterly, "The Sterling Family values privacy over reputation, all information is blocked, and we simply can’t probe in our circle, but I asked someone to check. Currently, the head of the Fitzwilliam Consortium is a young man, based on his description, he looks a lot like Zion Fitzwilliam."

She raised her head, looking at Mason with some despair, "Brother, we’ve provoked someone we shouldn’t have. The current crisis of Jacobs Corporation is likely Zion Fitzwilliam’s doing. If we don’t find a way, we might not last until next year."

Only at this point did Mason react, finding it both amusing and unbelievable, "You mean the man Elara Hale married in her second marriage is the head of the Fitzwilliam Consortium? How is that possible? Just someone like her, how could a person of such status fancy her?"

Rosalind was silent.

She couldn’t understand either, what did Elara Hale have to offer? She was nothing, not even young, yet how was she with such a noble man?

How did she get in touch with him, and how did she seduce him?

Rosalind was bewildered.

But at this point, that wasn’t the main issue.

"Brother, we need to plead with Elara Hale." Rosalind clenched her teeth, enduring humiliation as she spoke, "If Zion Fitzwilliam is targeting the Jacobs Family, it’s sure to be due to Elara Hale’s meddling. Otherwise, why would such a grand figure deal with us personally? We’ve had too many conflicts with Elara Hale before, she wants us dead!"

Mason pursed his lips, his expression cold and sharp, "I’ll find a chance to talk to her."

If the man Elara Hale married is indeed the head of the Fitzwilliam Consortium, no, even if he’s not the head, as long as he’s from the Fitzwilliam Consortium, he has no chance of winning her back.

After striving for so long, he felt extremely unwilling.

Thinking about the woman he scorned and despised, who in her second marriage married someone a hundred times better than him, Mason was somewhat irritable.

Rosalind felt the same way. The woman she once trampled underfoot had suddenly become someone she had to look up to, making her feel like vomiting.

But since she learned the news earlier than Mason and had time to digest it, she appeared calmer.

Fortunately, she had agreed to the marriage with the Grayson Family. Once married into the Grayson Family as the young mistress, the Jacobs Family could take a step up.

Perhaps in ten years, the Jacobs Family might rise with the wind and become a match for the Fitzwilliam Consortium.

Mason didn’t say another word, turned around, and went upstairs, leaving a sentence behind, "You don’t need to worry about this; focus on the Grayson Family, and I’ll talk to mother tomorrow."

In other words, even if they were to apologize and plead with Elara Hale, Rosalind did not need to show up.

Rosalind eagerly welcomed this outcome; she’d rather die than bow before Elara Hale.

Elara Hale was unaware of all this. She had a good sleep at Esther Carter’s house, feeling rejuvenated upon waking up the next day.

When Esther Carter finished filming, she wished she could stay in bed every day. When Elara went to work, Esther was still reluctant to get up, rolling on the bed, "Elara, are you coming over tonight? We can have hot pot."

Elara laughed as she changed shoes and said, "No, I avoided it for a day, avoiding it any longer would be outrageous. I’ll go back tonight to pack up and move out with Joanne Carter."

Fortunately, when she initially planned to move out, the apartment she rented wasn’t refunded; she’d already paid three months’ deposit, and only half a month had passed.

Since she decided, there was no point in delaying. When a line should be drawn, delaying would only cause chaos.

Elara was grateful for Zion Fitzwilliam’s help. For such a high-ranking person to lower himself to accommodate her, she was moved. His affection made her happy, but unsuitability was still unsuitability.

She couldn’t handle the issues brought by the disparity in their social standing, nor the complex family matters; she only wanted to live a peaceful life.

To love recklessly, once was enough with the pain.

Elara continuously convinced herself until she saw Zion Fitzwilliam at Esther Carter’s doorstep.

She was startled, involuntarily stepping back, nearly twisting her ankle in her high heels. Seeing this, Zion quickly reached out to steady her, then took a courteous step back after she regained her balance.

Holding her purse, Elara felt it was inexplicable, "When did you get here?"

Zion glanced at his watch and answered, "Fifteen minutes ago."

Elara was taken aback, "Then why didn’t you knock? Were you waiting outside all this time?"

Zion smiled, "I didn’t want to disturb your rest."

Elara had nothing to say, staring at her toes for a while before speaking, "What are you doing here? I have to go to work soon, unless it’s urgent, can we discuss it tonight?"

Zion couldn’t see her face, only the little vortex on her head, her soft brown hair casually flowing with a cute little swirl in the middle.

He couldn’t help but smile.

"I can’t wait until tonight."

Unexpectedly, Elara became a little nervous.

Zion, looking at the swirl on her head, shook his head helplessly, "Elara, before, I was always cautious, didn’t dare to love you openly, afraid that you would run away like a startled rabbit if you knew the truth."

His gaze was deep, revealing a confident smile, "But now, without that worry, I’ll pursue you once again."

Elara looked up in astonishment.

Zion smiled at her, a determined look flashing in his eyes, "Anyhow, regardless of what I do, you plan to give up on me, don’t you? Might as well let me have a final struggle."

His voice wasn’t loud, yet it had a palpable weight, as if making a vow, making Elara somewhat flustered.

She thought the most troublesome thing she’d face going home tonight was Joanne Carter begging her not to divorce, never imagining this seemingly indifferent man had such a determined side.

Her impression of Zion Fitzwilliam was that of a gentleman, never forcing others into difficult situations.

"Don’t worry, I’m just courting you; I’m not demanding an immediate response," Zion looked at her, blinking, "After all, you have the right to refuse me, and I have the right to pursue you, don’t I?"

Elara suddenly didn’t know how to respond, Zion said, "How about talking it over in the car? If we delay any longer, you’ll be late."

Seeing Elara hesitate about getting into his car, he couldn’t help but laugh, "Elara, putting aside everything, we still have a cooperative friendship; getting in my car shouldn’t make you so cautious, should it?"

Elara thought that it made sense; hesitating would only make her seem petty. She had already made her decision, so why fear being swayed by him?

Once she got in the car and was about to speak, Zion Fitzwilliam handed her a bag. She opened it to find a steaming breakfast and milk.

Her hand stiffened, and just as she intended to return it, Zion Fitzwilliam said, "I brought this while taking Joanne Carter to school. She was worried about you missing breakfast, insisted that I get you one too."

Elara suspected he might be bluffing, but since he mentioned Joanne, she couldn’t say much about it. She withdrew her hand, opened the food, took a bite, and said, "Joanne seems to know my taste pretty well."

Zion Fitzwilliam’s hand paused slightly on the steering wheel, then he smiled.

He smiled not because she saw through the fact that Joanne didn’t really ask him to bring the food, but because she didn’t angrily throw the food back at him despite figuring it out.

What does that indicate? It indicates he has a chance. Esther Carter wasn’t lying to him; Elara does like him. As long as she likes him, he has an opportunity.

Elara ate the breakfast Zion Fitzwilliam prepared, feeling a bit short of breath.

Initially, she intended to tell him in the car that two incompatible people shouldn’t waste their time, but she was too shy to express it. When they reached the company, she got out, trying to cheer herself up: It doesn’t matter. She’s moving out tonight anyway, she’ll talk then.

Zion Fitzwilliam lowered the car window and handed her a thermos, Elara was taken aback, "What is this?"

"Five Red Soup, it’s good for nourishing blood and qi."

Elara silently took it and said, "Thank you."

She had mild anemia, forgotten how Zion Fitzwilliam knew, but afterward, he began cooking Five Red Soup for her every evening.

She hadn’t returned home last night, yet he still remembered to bring her the soup today.

Once again, Elara felt regrettable that he wasn’t an ordinary person, making them resigned in the end.

Love is the most beautiful yet cruel thing in the world - at first willing to do anything for each other, but as time goes on, everything changes.

When she was dating Mason Jacobs, their relationship was also good initially, but it ended up like that.

She vowed not to make the same mistake again.

Her once wavering heart hardened instantly, and Elara thanked Zion Fitzwilliam with a smile, "Thank you."

Then she turned and entered the company.

Zion Fitzwilliam watched her back; he couldn’t understand why she suddenly became distant when everything seemed fine moments ago in the car.

He sighed gently.

The sighs of his life were all spent on pursuing his wife.

Right at that moment, a car behind him, which was driving just fine, suddenly crazily accelerated and crashed straight into him!

Zion Fitzwilliam reacted promptly, but in the blink of an eye, humans can only do so much. His car was hit and flipped massively, the airbags deployed, and he immediately lost consciousness.

Then, Elara had just reached upstairs; she heard the loud crash but didn’t pay much mind to it. Nonetheless, an inexplicable panic surged within her, instinctively running to the window, squeezing with colleagues to look outside.

"Whoa, the crash is so serious, the car flipped; could anyone inside possibly survive?"

"How did that car crash? Did you see it? It seemed to rush inexplicably."

"This doesn’t feel like an ordinary traffic accident."

Listening to the snippets of conversation around her, Elara’s gaze fell on the accident scene below, her pupils shrinking sharply.

Although they were on the thirteenth floor and couldn’t clearly see the situation on the ground, she recognized at a glance that the overturned car belonged to Zion Fitzwilliam!

Her heart clenched tightly, hurriedly running towards the elevator, but unfortunately, it was rush hour and the elevator wouldn’t come. Panicking, she took hurried steps down the staircase.

Her mind echoed with the colleague’s words: "Could anyone inside possibly survive?"

Zion Fitzwilliam would be fine; he’s such a skilled person—why fear a small car accident? Even if injured, he could find the best doctors worldwide for treatment; he’d be fine.

Elara was anxious and afraid, her hands trembling. By the time she reached downstairs, the ambulance and police were already there.

The person inside the car had been rescued and placed on a stretcher, and Elara heard someone saying, "What a pity, so young, just gone like this."

Suddenly panic set in, cold sweat streaming, her face pale, she looked over.

After realizing they were talking about someone in another car, she breathed a sigh of relief, her body softened, almost collapsing to the ground.

The ambulance left swiftly with the person; Elara hadn’t had a chance to see how injured Zion Fitzwilliam was. Not daring to delay the ambulance further, she rushed to the street, hailed a cab, and followed the ambulance to the hospital.

Upon reaching the hospital, she grabbed an emergency nurse and asked, "Where’s the person from the car crash sent earlier? Are the injuries serious?"

The nurse replied, "Are you asking about the handsome young man’s case? It’s nothing major, just passed out from shock, only some minor injuries; he’s on that bed over there, you can go see him."

Elara, finally feeling a sense of reality, staggered towards the indicated direction. Upon seeing the man lying on the hospital bed, intact but somewhat disheveled, the moment he opened his eyes, she couldn’t hold back anymore, squatting and crying helplessly.

Zion Fitzwilliam initially felt pleased to see her arrive, but when she immediately cried, he panicked, quickly trying to console her, "Elara, I’m fine, don’t cry."

He wanted to get out of bed to hug her because she cried so helplessly, like a puppy abandoned by the world, pitifully tugging at his heart.

But before he could get up, a passing nurse pressed him back onto the bed.

"Stay put, still on IV, don’t move around!"

Elara squatted on the ground, looking up at Zion Fitzwilliam’s resigned expression, her tears turning into a smile.

Seeing her laugh, Zion Fitzwilliam felt a significant relief, looking at her helplessly, "Is it that funny?"

He beckoned, "Come here."

Perhaps his voice sounded weak, prompting Elara, unconsciously, to obediently move closer.

When she neared, he unexpectedly reached out and wiped her cheek, brushing away her tears, sighing, "Don’t worry, I’m okay."

At that moment, Elara felt like time stood still, the bustling emergency room, the passing patients’ families and healthcare workers all turned into ambient noise.