Broken Oath: I Left, He Regretted-Chapter 166: Naomi Sawyer Is Actually My Biological Sister

Chapter 166: Chapter 166: Naomi Sawyer Is Actually My Biological Sister

Just then, my phone suddenly rang.

I thought it was Julian Sinclair, but it was actually Jenna Sutton.

I answered the call and Jenna’s anxious, furious voice burst into my ear: "Timothy Xavier has lost his mind! Did you really agree to marry him?"

"Marry?"

I was totally confused, not a clue what she was talking about, "What are you talking about? When did I ever say yes to marrying him?"

"You don’t know?"

Jenna’s voice shot up a notch, "His post on X two hours ago! The internet’s about to explode—check it now!"

I felt my heart tighten, hung up in a hurry, and immediately opened the webpage.

Timothy Xavier’s post was pinned right at the top—the wording was simple, but the impact was huge: "Dear netizens, any recommendations for wedding teams?"

The comments were already over two hundred thousand, the enthusiasm practically pouring out of the screen.

"Here’s my checklist for last year’s wedding—take it, you’re welcome!"

"President Xavier is definitely planning a grand wedding for his wife!"

"The four-years-late wedding is finally coming! The secret marriage is finally in the spotlight! Congrats, congrats!" 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

"I thought he was scum, but he’s actually the prodigal son come home. I’m obsessed! That woman is so lucky!"

"..."

Timothy Xavier’s post made my temples pound with rage.

Suddenly I remembered Julian Sinclair hadn’t come home—maybe he’d seen the post and gotten pissed.

I immediately found his number and called, but all I got was a shutdown notice.

Again and again, always the same message.

Anxiety crawled stronger in my heart.

I was still clutching my phone; the comments under Timothy’s post kept flashing across the screen.

Ever since his public "admit mistakes, change ways, prodigal son returns" persona got exposed, he’d drawn in tons of fans, lots of attention.

And at that moment, a call from The Ellison Family came in.

I took a deep breath and answered, Mrs. Ellison’s urgent voice flooding in: "Zoe! Is what they’re saying online true? Are you really going to have a wedding with that Timothy Xavier?"

No sooner had Mrs. Ellison finished than Mr. Ellison’s serious voice cut in: "Did you forget how Timothy Xavier treated you back then? You can’t rely on someone like him—don’t be stupid, don’t go back to him!"

My parents went back and forth, anxious, trying desperately to persuade me.

I explained that Timothy’s post was only his own, I’d never agreed to the wedding, and after much talk they finally relaxed a little.

After hanging up, seeing the ever-escalating online debate, I couldn’t hold it in any longer and called Timothy Xavier directly.

As soon as he picked up, I swallowed back my anger and said, "Timothy, delete that post right now and stop with these pointless updates! I’m telling you straight: I’m not marrying you!"

On the other end, Timothy gave a cold, mocking laugh. "Zoe, you’ve seen how the internet’s reacting—everyone wants us together. Things like this can’t be settled on the phone. Come to the hospital, let’s talk face-to-face."

"There’s nothing to talk about," I snapped, didn’t hesitate for a second, and hung up.

...

I thought Timothy might back off, but for the next few days, he seemed hell-bent on keeping up this farce.

He posted every day: picking out wedding dresses, lists of venues, custom favors—he painstakingly shared every detail in this ridiculous wedding prep.

Each post drew a swarm of onlookers; his one-sided "wedding of the century" kept trending nonstop.

My life was thrown into chaos; even paparazzi started staking out my building.

I understood now, there was no running away from this.

If I didn’t see him for a day, he would bombard the internet all day long forcing me to show up.

Unless I never left home again, stopped socializing, basically cut myself off completely.

Otherwise, wherever I went, I’d just be tabloid fodder. Everyone would always tie me to him.

So I grabbed my coat and headed straight for the hospital where Timothy Xavier was staying.

Pushing open the ward door, the scene made me freeze in my tracks.

Serena was holding a bowl of porridge, gently feeding Timothy spoon by spoon.

I was surprised—ever since Timothy started trying to win me back, he’d never dared so brazenly let me see them together.

But now, he openly flaunted Serena here, his eyes ice-cold, no trace of his old guilt.

I suddenly understood—his "wedding" stunt wasn’t about obsession or making up for anything. He believed Julian and I colluded against him, so now he wanted to tie me to him and use me as revenge—against me and Julian both.

I tamped down my churning emotions and said to Timothy, "Have her leave. I want to talk to you."

Timothy’s lips curled in a mocking sneer. "Serena’s not an outsider. You two will be together for life. With your bias against her, how are you supposed to live in peace?"

I frowned hard—so I guessed right, this was Timothy playing games on purpose.

Just then, Serena put down the bowl and walked toward me slowly, her expression aggrieved yet respectful. "Miss Ellison, I’ve already discussed it with Timothy. From now on, I’ll quietly stay by his side as his woman in the background. I won’t disturb your life. Pretend I don’t exist, okay? I really can’t leave him; even if I have no name, no title, I’d still be willing."

As soon as she finished, I raised my hand and delivered a loud slap square across her face.

Serena stared at me, shocked, clutching her cheek. In her eyes, a deeply hidden, poisonous gleam flickered.

I smiled lightly, voice dry: "So by your logic, you’re acting as the concubine? If you’re so content being second, then you’d better get used to the humiliation. Be grateful this isn’t the old days; you’d have to kneel and pour me tea every day."

Serena’s eyes filled with tears. She whipped around and looked at Timothy, full of grievance and plea.

Timothy’s face darkened. After a long pause he said to Serena, "Leave us."

Serena clenched her fists tight, glared at me with pure hatred, almost dripping venom, but in the end, she left, clearly unwilling but unable to resist.

Once she was gone, I looked at Timothy and said, "This whole spectacle is pointless. You’re just wasting resources and time. Even if you force a wedding, there’s no law saying we can’t divorce right after. Either way, I won’t go through with it."

Timothy clenched his fists, the IV tube rattling with his movement.

His eyes were bloodshot; his voice came out hoarse and furiously obsessed: "If I can’t have you, neither can Julian! He took everything from me, even my last shred of dignity. I don’t want anything now—except to see him suffer, to lose what matters most to him!"

His words dripped with poison. Before I could retort, he went on: "Oh, you don’t know yet? Your grandma’s not doing well—she’s stopped all treatment."

I went rigid, heart clenching hard.

Timothy twisted his mouth into a sneer. "All your fault! If you hadn’t tangled yourself with Julian, stressing Grandma out, she’d never have given up. If you’ve got a shred of conscience, you’ll break off with Julian, and come back to me."

Now I finally understood why Julian disappeared that day.

Timothy saw I wasn’t budging; his expression went cruel, almost monstrous. "Still want to play stubborn? Fine, I’ll drag Julian down too! Expose whatever you want about me and Serena—everyone already hates us, what’s a little more? Go ahead."

His tone got even colder, like a maniac on the edge, every word a threat: "Don’t forget, when you and Julian staged that farce, Madam Sinclair staked her reputation to help you. If netizens find out it was a scam, do you think they’ll spare that respected old lady? When the Sinclair name is ruined, when Julian’s reputation is destroyed, do you think she can survive the public’s abuse? Online insults are absolutely vicious."

I stared at him in disbelief. The Timothy I saw now chilled me to the bone.

I shook my head, voice wrecked and trembling: "Timothy, you’re insane! You’re a total lunatic now!"

Timothy slammed the hospital bed, eyes blazing with hatred, snarling through clenched teeth, "You and Julian forced me, did you forget? All the sneaky, filthy things you did behind my back, you helped him screw me over—you know it! If that’s how it is, Zoe Ellison, it’s war between us. Unless you want to drag the Sinclairs, drag Julian down, we all go to hell together! My reputation’s already trashed; if Madam Sinclair and Julian take the fall for me, that’s even better!"

...

None of us realized, outside the door, Naomi Sawyer was watching all of it icily.

Her eyes were red rimmed, pain twisting in her chest.

The woman Timothy was hurting so viciously—that was her sister by her mother.

How could she not ache?

Naomi’s blood roared listening in, jaws clenched.

She couldn’t hold back any longer, hand already cupping the door handle.

But at that moment, her wrist was gripped hard by Katherine Sheldon.

Katherine yanked her out of the hospital and stuffed her into the car parked outside.

When the door slammed shut, Katherine looked stone-faced. "Ethan went through hell to save you, not so you could throw everything away with some reckless stunt! If you go up against Timothy now, how does that help your revenge, or Ethan’s plans?"

Naomi’s chest heaved; she forced herself to breathe, tamping down fury. "But she’s my sister! I can’t watch Timothy Xavier torture her!"

Katherine’s tone was harsh, her eyes sharp as blades. "You promised me you’d use Timothy’s feelings of guilt and love to help Ethan wipe him out. Now is not the time to show yourself. You owe Ethan your life—revenge is all that matters! Think about it: Who killed your mother? If Timothy doesn’t get punished, what’s the point of you showing up now?"

Naomi’s fingers curled, her words shaking, "But Zoe..."

"There’s more than one way to save your sister." Katherine cut her off. "But charging in headfirst isn’t one of them. Your mother can’t die in vain; your sister can’t suffer for nothing. You need to stay calm and stick to the plan."

Naomi knew Katherine was right, and she knew Katherine only wanted to use her to help her son.

But this mother and son really did break her out of Timothy’s prison.

Right then, Katherine’s phone rang.

When she answered, her face smoothed out, her tone motherly and kind: "Ethan, I’m just taking Naomi out for some air. Can’t keep her trapped at home all the time, she’ll go stir crazy."

On the other end, Ethan Xavier’s voice was irritated. "Mom, don’t let her wander around. I don’t want Timothy to find out she’s alive."

Katherine frowned slightly, glanced at Naomi, but smiled, "Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. The kitchen has porridge I made—make sure you eat."

When she hung up, Katherine snorted, her eyes landing on Naomi. "Ethan cares about you more and more, but you should remember—you’re older, and you and Timothy have a past. There’s no future with him."

Naomi nodded quietly. "I know. Young Master Xavier made it clear when he rescued me—he just wants to take back Xavier Group. We’re partners, nothing more."

"Smart girl." Katherine finally smiled, though her eyes stayed watchful. "Remember, revenge is all that matters. Don’t get tangled up in love where you shouldn’t. Otherwise you’ll destroy yourself—and let your mother down, and Ethan who worked so hard to save you."

The sunlight through the car window fell on Naomi’s pale, fragile face. She spoke slowly, voice steady: "Don’t worry. I won’t forget. My mother’s enemy, my sister’s pain—I’ll make them pay for everything."

Katherine watched her, finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

...

Meanwhile, not far away, inside a stretch limo—

Leo Grant handed Julian Sinclair a thick stack of files. "You were right—Naomi Sawyer never died. Timothy Xavier kept her locked up in a psych hospital for years. Everyone thought she’d gone insane. Ethan Xavier was the one who found out, plotted her fake suicide, switched the body, and smuggled her away."

Julian raised his brows, doubt flickering across his eyes. "Timothy Xavier never saw Naomi’s body?"

Leo nodded. "Timothy wasn’t even abroad then—only Serena and her mother handled everything. When Timothy got there, they’d already cremated the ’corpse.’"

Julian’s mouth quirked, tone amused: "Ethan is smarter than I expected. His knack for manipulating hearts is on par with his mother."

Leo looked confused. "You mean...?"

Julian mused, "Even if Serena didn’t see the body, or realized it wasn’t her sister, she’d still lie to make Timothy believe Naomi was dead. First, so she could frame Zoe Ellison; second, because she knew what Naomi meant to Timothy. Only if Timothy thought Naomi was gone would Serena be able to take her place. Ethan must’ve counted on that, deliberately choosing when Serena and her mother were abroad and Timothy wasn’t, to pull off rescuing Naomi."

Just then, Leo’s phone rang.

He answered—it was instantly serious. "Attorney Sinclair, the hospital called. Mrs. Kendall... she’s not going to make it."