Chapter 132: Chapter 132

With a burning sense of panic, Zinnia tore her hand from the man’s fiery grip.

Just as she was about to struggle, Jenson had already rolled off of her.

He sat on the edge of the bed and took off his shirt. Sunlight cascaded over his back, and the muscles there rippled fluidly with the movement, exuding an irresistible allure.

Zinnia, however, instinctively lifted her leg, wanting to kick him off the bed again.

But it was as if Jenson had eyes in the back of his head. The moment she lifted her foot, his cold voice rang out.

"Dare to kick me again, and I’ll really make you cry beneath me."

His voice was husky, with a heavy, final note—a warning laced with suppressed desire.

Zinnia lost her nerve, unwillingly lowering her raised foot.

But Jenson just sat there, regulating his breathing, and didn’t make another move. As Zinnia lay there, her heartbeat gradually calmed, and she found herself unconsciously staring at his back.

He had the kind of physique that looked slim in clothes but was well-muscled underneath—lean and incredibly appealing. His broad shoulders and back rippled with power. A lean layer of muscle defined his entire spine before his waist tapered sharply. Even the nape of his neck, with its pronounced spinal bone, was perfectly sculpted.

His skin was a cool, fine alabaster with a healthy sheen. A few old scars marked his back and right side, but they didn’t diminish his appeal. Instead, they added a sense of history and a wild, masculine charm.

Zinnia had never observed his body so closely before. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to; he had never given her the chance. On the rare occasions they were intimate, he would cover up faster than a shy maiden, sometimes even covering her eyes. She had caught glimpses of these scars before; he had two more on his chest and abdomen.

Zinnia had asked him about them once, but he had told her not to pry into his affairs.

Now, her attention was once again drawn to the scars. Although they had faded, they still looked ghastly. One could only imagine how shocking the original injuries must have been. But he didn’t have these scars before he went abroad. Even overseas, he was the heir of the Forrest Family, with many people secretly protecting him. He lived a life of luxury. Who could possibly have harmed him? Why did he have so many scars? It was almost as if he had been living as an outlaw. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novèlfire.net

Zinnia could never figure it out, and Jenson would never tell her.

As they grew up, they both accumulated secrets the other couldn’t touch. Her brother had long been unwilling to let her into his inner world.

"Zinnia, if you keep staring, I’ll take it as an invitation."

The man suddenly turned his head, his scorching, profound gaze meeting her furtive one.

Zinnia’s face flushed. She scrambled off the other side of the bed and retorted, "Who invited you? You’re the one who stripped down for all to see!"

Jenson scoffed lightly. "How am I supposed to apply the medicine without taking my shirt off? Go get the burn ointment."

"Oh." Only then did Zinnia remember that the man had a burn on his chest and she was there to help him treat it.

She rummaged around for the burn ointment but didn’t go near Jenson again. Tossing it onto the bed, she said, "It’s on your chest, so you can apply it yourself. I’m going to check on Grandma."

Like a little rabbit skilled at escaping, she didn’t dare get close to the dangerous big bad wolf again.

After tossing the ointment, she slipped to the door, pulled it open, and ran out.

BANG. The door slammed shut. Jenson sat there, glancing at the ointment beside him, and let out an amused chuckle.

When Zinnia returned to Old Madam Forrest’s room, the old lady was leaning against the headboard, seemingly asleep.

Zinnia walked over quietly. Just as she was about to pull up the blanket that had slipped down to the woman’s waist, her grandmother’s eyes opened.

"Zinnia, are you really leaving tomorrow? Can’t you stay?"

So the old lady hadn’t been sleeping after all; she had been waiting for her.

Zinnia sat on the edge of the bed and took her grandmother’s outstretched hand, her own eyes welling with love, respect, and guilt.

"Grandma, I’ve made up my mind."

Old Madam Forrest sighed and nodded. "Alright. Since you’ve made your decision, Grandma will support you."

Zinnia could no longer control her tears. Fearing her grandmother would see, she leaned over and rested her head on the old woman’s shoulder.

"Grandma, you agree. Thank you. I’ll video call you often."

Old Madam Forrest stroked Zinnia’s hand with immense affection.

She agreed. How could she not? She had seen the scene at the hospital today all too clearly. Perhaps letting this child go was truly what was best for her. I can only hope that my proud, arrogant grandson, who never bows his head, doesn’t end up regretting this!

"Go on, my dear child," the old woman said softly. "About what happened back then... I’ve always believed you didn’t do it. You’re not the kind of child who would do something like that.

"Grandma knew what was in your heart. I wanted to fulfill your wish and have Jenson marry you. You two grew up together and had such a deep bond; I was certain you could live a harmonious life, supporting each other forever.

"Jenson has a cold temperament, but you’re a thoughtful, warmhearted child. With you by his side, I felt at ease. But who knew... Ah, now I don’t even know if the decision I made back then was right or wrong."

Listening to her grandmother, Zinnia felt a bitter sting in her eyes and her heart twisted into a knot. Her relationship with Jenson was ultimately a forced, ill-fated bond that had borne bitter fruit. But she never regretted it. To her, an ill-fated bond was still a bond, and bitter fruit was still fruit. Only by tasting it herself could she know its flavor, and that taste was enough to savor for a lifetime. Besides, she hadn’t come away empty-handed. He had given her a baby. Her and her brother’s baby.

Unfortunately, Grandma yearned to hold a great-grandchild, but she couldn’t tell her now. A fresh wave of guilt washed over Zinnia. "Grandma, please don’t say that," she said. "I’ve always been so grateful to you. Thank you."

"Alright, alright. You’ve endured so much over the years, and I’m old now, unable to protect you. Go. Fly far, fly high. Grandma believes my little Zinnia will find her own vast, open sky.

"If you get tired, no matter when, remember that this is your home. Grandma will always welcome you back, do you understand?"

As Old Madam Forrest caressed her hair, Zinnia’s nose burned with unshed tears. She tried to hold them back, but they fell anyway, drop by drop, soaking into the old woman’s sweater.

She nodded heavily. She remembered coming to her grandmother’s side when she was eight years old, and it was her grandmother who had given her a new home. It was her grandmother who had protected and loved her, treating her like her own flesh and blood. Now her grandmother was old, and it should have been her turn to be filial. Instead, she had caused the old woman so much worry. By going abroad, not only could she not dote on her, but she would make her grandmother continue to miss her. The guilt and pain were overwhelming.

"You must listen to the doctor," Zinnia choked out. "You can’t secretly hide your medicine anymore, and no more sneaking snacks in the middle of the night. If the doctor says to avoid something, you must avoid it, okay?"

"You have to take good care of yourself and live to be a hundred. You have to live long enough to watch me stand on the biggest international stage."

"Of course, I will. Grandma is waiting to be the grandmother of the world-class dancer, Zinnia Lawrence. I’ll make all the other grandmothers in the world envious of me."

"Then let’s make a pinky promise?" Zinnia suggested, linking her pinky with her grandmother’s.

Jenson, having showered, applied ointment to his burn, and changed his clothes, came over just in time to see this scene through the crack in the door.

He didn’t go in to disturb them. He reached out and gently closed the door, then turned and went downstairs.

Timothy Cohen was already waiting and approached him as he came down the stairs.

"President, Miss Sutton is making a fuss and demanding to see you."

Half an hour after Zinnia and the others had left, Crystal Sutton was wheeled out of the operating room, her amniocentesis complete.

The amniocentesis hadn’t required anesthesia. When she was wheeled out and saw the empty hallway with no one waiting for her, she immediately began to cause a scene.

Jenson nodded. "Let’s go."

As the car drove out of the private estate, Timothy glanced in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, an unremarkable black car was trailing them from a distance.

Timothy frowned. "President, perhaps we should have Ryder strengthen security. That woman has been following us for several days now. She’s seeking revenge. I’m worried..."