Chapter 93: Chapter 93: She Has a Pink Birthmark on Her Chest

Everything was settled. Even though Noelle Sutton had no desire to return, she had no choice.

By the time the two of them returned to Westhill Villa, it was already after midnight.

As luck would have it, Sophie Hughes was just coming out of the villa, pulling a suitcase behind her.

"Tristan, Noelle, you’re back."

Sophie Hughes wore a faint smile.

Noelle Sutton’s expression was indifferent. Whatever Sophie Hughes did was none of her business.

It was Tristan Lawson who spoke up, his tone light. "Leaving?"

"I’ve been troubling you by staying at your place these past few days. I have to report to Director Ford tomorrow, and it’s a bit far from Westhill Villa, so I’ve booked a hotel near his studio."

Tristan Lawson’s brow furrowed slightly. "What if you have an allergic reaction?"

Previously, Joshua Lawson had mentioned that Sophie Hughes was staying with them because she was prone to allergic reactions in hotels.

Noelle Sutton couldn’t be bothered to listen anymore and strode toward the villa.

Sophie Hughes quickly said, "It’s alright, don’t worry. You know it’s just an issue with the bedding. I bought my own in advance and had it sent to the hotel."

Noelle Sutton entered the villa.

She couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation.

’So it was just a problem with the bedding, and Tristan Lawson knew all about it.’

A mocking smile touched Noelle Sutton’s lips. It was such a simple problem to solve, yet it had become Tristan Lawson’s reason for insisting Sophie Hughes live at Westhill Villa.

"I’ll have the driver take you."

Tristan Lawson didn’t ask Sophie Hughes to stay.

Sophie Hughes pressed her lips together. "Tristan, there’s no need. Noelle... she’s probably very bothered by our past. You should find a chance to explain things to her. I think that’s why she seems to dislike me so much. It’s my fault, really. I should have left sooner and not caused such a huge conflict between you two. I feel terrible about it."

Tristan Lawson’s eyes darkened. "It has nothing to do with you. Don’t take it to heart. Since you’ll be working with Director Ford, you’ll probably be in the country for a while. Staying in a hotel isn’t a long-term solution. Just put up with it for a few days, and I’ll arrange a place for you to live."

"Really, there’s no need. I’m already looking at properties with an agent. It’s just me, so I can just buy a small apartment for the time being. Tristan, I’m leaving now. You should go and comfort Noelle."

With that, Sophie Hughes grabbed her suitcase, turned, and left.

Tristan Lawson’s brow creased slightly.

’He had promised he would never treat her unfairly in this life.’

’She had grown up in luxury villas. How could she possibly live in a small apartment?’

The Hughes Family’s old villa had been demolished for urban redevelopment shortly after her maternal grandparents emigrated.

After that, they truly had no plans to return to the country, and all their other properties were sold off one by one.

Otherwise, Sophie Hughes wouldn’t have been reduced to staying in a hotel upon her return.

’However, there was still one villa left.’

Tristan Lawson took out his phone and called Sophie Hughes.

Sophie Hughes hadn’t walked far from the villa when she saw the incoming call from Tristan Lawson. The corners of her lips curled up slightly.

"Hello, Tristan."

"Don’t stay at the hotel. Go to The Orchidelle. You know the code."

’The Orchidelle was exactly what she wanted.’

But she lowered her voice and asked, "Tristan, would that be appropriate?"

"There’s nothing inappropriate about it. It’s been sitting empty. I’m currently investing in a new studio for Director Ford, and the location won’t be too far from The Orchidelle. It’ll be convenient for you to live there."

"Then... thanks."

Sophie Hughes ended the call, the smile on her lips deepening.

Tristan Lawson entered the villa. The door to the master bedroom was open.

He walked to the doorway and saw Noelle Sutton packing all her clothes into a suitcase.

Tristan Lawson went over and took all the clothes out of the suitcase. "I’ll sleep in the guest room. You don’t have to move out."

He put all of Noelle Sutton’s clothes back into the wardrobe.

Noelle Sutton didn’t argue with him. It didn’t matter to her who slept in the guest room.

Tristan Lawson took his bathrobe from the wardrobe and draped it over his arm. His expression was calm, and his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but after a glance at Noelle Sutton’s nearly expressionless face, he strode out of the master bedroom.

There was a guest room right next to the master. Tristan Lawson went in and headed straight for the bathroom.

After his shower, he came out and sat on the bedroom balcony, lit a cigarette, and dialed Hugo Sterling’s number.

"Did you get that wound treated?"

The first thing Hugo Sterling asked when he answered the phone was about Tristan Lawson’s injury.

"Yeah."

"How did you manage to hurt your neck? And it was bleeding so much."

Hugo Sterling had a good idea of what happened but asked deliberately.

"I was bitten by a docile little kitten that threw a temper tantrum."

"Oh? That’s dangerous. Did you get your shots?"

Tristan Lawson took a deep drag from his cigarette and scoffed, "Hugo Sterling, I didn’t call you to chat. Do you have any idea that you’ve messed up my plans yet again?"

"Didn’t I already compensate you with that project?"

Tristan Lawson’s lips curled. "You’re quite the calculator, making one project pay for two incidents."

Hugo Sterling gave a light laugh. "There’s no crime in not knowing. Would President Lawson care to enlighten me?"

Tristan Lawson couldn’t be bothered to explain.

’He had cut off all of Noelle Sutton’s escape routes completely. She had no money. He’d expected that if she didn’t come back today or tomorrow, she’d have no choice but to return the day after.’

’But then...’

’Thirty million. Hugo Sterling was certainly generous.’

"What did you buy from her for thirty million?"

’This was the key point.’

’He needed to know the source of Noelle Sutton’s income.’

"Paper-cuttings."

Tristan Lawson sneered. "I seriously suspect you’re doing this just to mess with me."

’Thirty million for paper-cuttings.’

’Did Hugo Sterling fucking know that he had cut off Noelle Sutton’s financial lifelines and deliberately thrown thirty million at her?’

"Don’t you go accusing me wrongly. I really did buy paper-cuttings. Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you earlier—in three days, it’s my grandfather’s seventieth birthday. We’re having a banquet at home. Remember to come. And bring your wife. My grandfather wants to meet her."

Only then did Tristan Lawson recall that Old Master Sterling’s first love was said to have been a master paper-cutting artist, an inheritor of the intangible cultural heritage. As a result, Old Master Sterling had always had a penchant for collecting paper-cuttings.

In recent years, his passion for collecting them had only grown more intense.

’Even if Hugo Sterling was helping Old Master Sterling with his collection, the little trinkets Noelle Sutton cut when doing crafts with Joshua Lawson—things like window decorations and paper dolls—were practically worthless. It was impossible they would ever be good enough to catch Old Master Sterling’s eye.’

"Hugo Sterling, you really know how to push my buttons, don’t you?"

Hugo Sterling was completely baffled. "Tristan, what on earth are you talking about? I don’t understand a single word. What did I do deliberately?"

’Tristan Lawson couldn’t very well tell Hugo Sterling that his wife was being disobedient and demanding a divorce, and that to get her back, he had frozen all her available funds.’

"Fine. You want to be mysterious, is that it? Then in three days, I’ll attend your grandfather’s birthday banquet and see for myself just what kind of paper-cuttings you spent thirty million on for him."

"Then you’d better remember to bring your wife. My grandfather isn’t too interested in seeing you, but he’s quite keen on meeting your wife. He said he has a gift for her."

’Noelle Sutton had just signed the agreement with him today, which stipulated that the husband could not require the wife to attend any events.’

Tristan Lawson’s face darkened. "Invite her yourself."

"Fine, fine, I’ll invite her myself. And since you called, I won’t have to track you down separately. Let me tell you about my actual business."

’Adrian Grant had mentioned it to Tristan Lawson before.’

"Go on."

"You know a fair bit about my little sister’s situation, but there’s a more private detail: she has a pink birthmark on her chest..."