Chapter 389

Penelope had recorded the entire call.
She handed the phone to her brother and told him to export the audio file.
As he worked, Timothy seethed. “I’m going to post this online. It’ll go viral. Let’s see how Judy faces the world after this.”
Penelope shook her head with a wry smile. “You underestimate Mrs. Bishop. She has the money and connections to bury this story, to make the recording disappear from the internet entirely. She could even trace it back to us, and don’t forget, we didn’t exactly obtain this legally. Besides, what do you mean, ‘face the world’? As long as she’s shameless enough, she’ll carry on just fine. Once the scandal dies down, no one will even remember.”
Timothy frowned. “So the recording is useless?”
“Of course not. We just have to wait for the right moment to use it.”
She had Timothy send the file to her. “I’ll handle this from here on out. You stay out
of it.”
Leaving Jack to Louis, she washed her hands of the matter.
When she returned to the Johnson estate, it was just her and Mr. Johnson for dinner again. Seeing his downcast expression, she placed some food on his plate.
“Theodore’s been really busy lately. He often has dinner at the office.”
Mr. Johnson sighed. “You don’t have to make excuses for him. I know he won’t be coming back here.”
“He will. This is his home too.”
“But he hates me.”
Theodore did hate him, but everything Mr. Johnson had done was for his son’s sake.
“I’ll bring him back in a few days.”
“Don’t force him. He’s carrying a heavy burden of his own.”
It was true. Theodore was still suffering from Lorraine’s death. Mrs. Stapleton, Mr. Johnson, and Theodore were all trapped in a cycle of self-blame and self- punishment. Though no one was truly at fault, hate and resentment were the only things that seemed to ease their pain.
After dinner, Penelope listened to the recording several more times. She had a nagging feeling there was more to the story between Mrs. Bishop and Jack.
Exhausted, she was about to fall asleep when a message from Theodore came through.
[Hogan’s at the gate. I had him bring you some takeout.]
[Takeout? I just had dinner, I’m not hungry.]
[Just go.]
Puzzled, Penelope threw a coat over her pajamas and hurried outside.
A black Maybach-Theodore’s car, which Hogan sometimes
drove-was parked at the curb. She jogged over, and just as she reached it, the
rear door swung open. Bending down to look inside, she
saw a bouquet of red roses. Roses, this late at night?
Despite her thoughts, she smiled and leaned in to grab them. Just as her fingers brushed the flowers, a strong hand clamped around her arm with a gasp, she was yanked
Into the car, tossed about ed
like a rag
dott. Before she could react, she was pinned against the leather seat.
“Who-”
Her word was cut off by a kiss tinged with alcohol. The initial shock gave way to recognition as the familiar scent calmed her. Realizing who it was, she playfully punched his shoulder. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ.net
“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” he murmured, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath hot and ragged.
Penelope inhaled his scent, feeling a little dizzy. “I had lamb stew, stir-fried greens, and mushroom soup for dinner
“So?”
“So now I’m realizing my diet has been far too bland,” she whispered, leaning in to nip his lower lip. “I’m in the mood for something more… substantial.”
“How substantial?”
Penelope wrapped her arms around his shoulders and climbed onto kis lap. The buttons of her silk pajamas had come undone during the scuffle. She pressed herself against him, a silent invitation.
Much later, as the night deepened, Penelope lay limply against Theodore’s chest, listening to the steady, powerful rhythm of his heart.
…