Chapter 1266

Steven couldn’t suppress a joyful smile. “You’re right,” he said.

That day, he truly lost control. Mona, it seemed, hadn't realized how attractive she was. He hadn't drunk excessively, only enough to remain rational. Yet, under her starry, doe-like gaze, he lost all restraint.

Mona smiled immediately. “Actually,” she said, “I was also tempted by your appearance.” After their drinks, her heart raced. She found it difficult to resist looking at Steven, longing for something to happen between them. But timidity held her back; such thoughts only circulated in her mind, never acted upon.

Their conversation carried them through the congested area. Minutes later, they drove smoothly to their destination. In the elevator, Steven, unable to contain himself, embraced and kissed her.

Skylar opened the door a few minutes later, surprised to find Mona with slightly swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Fortunately, she understood. She glanced knowingly at a guilty Steven. "Mom's cooking," Skylar announced. "She found a lone salmon and decided to bake it."

Mona's eyes sparkled. "Wow! Baked salmon? I just saw someone post about it on Instagram, and I was craving it! Mrs. Sullivan's baked salmon is incredibly delicious—better than any restaurant!" She recalled Steven's own excellent cooking skills, a strength she'd initially overlooked. She had once pursued him, hoping to win his heart with her own culinary abilities, which were, unfortunately, mediocre; only her carbonara was palatable. Ultimately, it was Steven's cooking that had won her over. The memory of his playful teasing in the elevator sent her heart racing anew. She was completely captivated by him.

Skylar smiled, seeing Mona's adoration. "I love it too! I can even smell it from here."

"I'm going to help in the kitchen and steal some cooking tips!" Mona exclaimed, bouncing into the kitchen.

Skylar faintly heard cheerful conversation between Mona and Janine. Turning to Skylar after Mona's departure, Steven asked, "You canceled your flight, right?"

"Yeah, I canceled it," Skylar replied. "I'll stick to the original plan and leave on schedule. If all goes well, I'll return to Murida in a half month."

Steven looked worried. "What about Mr. Ziegler's flight tomorrow?"

"He should arrive tomorrow morning," Skylar said, a knot forming in her stomach. "He's not doing well. Jeremy said a psychologist will accompany him, and he might need therapy."

Over the past three years, Paul had endured unimaginable suffering—experiences beyond comprehension for most. The lack of news about Joe in three years, if Joe were still alive, suggested a similar fate. The thought felt like needles pricking her heart.

Noticing Skylar's pallor, Steven reassured her. "We've waited more than three years. One more day won't make a difference. As for Joe… Skye, you need to let it go." The fact that Paul and Joe hadn't been together, and only Paul had been held captive, suggested Joe was likely dead.

Jacky's face was equally serious. "Yeah, it's exactly like that." They had spoken with Paul over the phone. Three years of inhumane treatment had transformed him. The once cocky and talkative Paul was a shadow of his former self—a change partly attributed to Joe.

Jacky glanced at Skylar's pale face. "We'll be here to help Mr. Ziegler recover. You don't have to—"

"I'm fine," Skylar said, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Three years ago, when we went to Murida, some things happened. I've come to terms with all the possible outcomes."

Jacky and Howard exchanged a look. They knew Skylar's resilience, but worried Paul's condition might trigger memories of Joe. Over the past few days, they'd concluded Joe was likely deceased.

Soon, the flight arrived, passengers emerging. Many were greeted by loved ones, their anticipation palpable. Howard and Jacky, veterans of intense situations, felt their palms sweat. They saw Skylar standing calmly, smiling. Her composure contrasted sharply with their nerves.

Then, three people walked out. Skylar didn't recognize them at first. Paul had lost so much weight he was almost unrecognizable. His face was masked, but visible scars crisscrossed his forehead. His eyes remained downcast, avoiding eye contact. Beside him were a psychologist, Gene Benson, and a bodyguard, Winthrop Keller.

Jacky and Howard's eyes reddened upon seeing Paul. They had known him for years, sharing both professional and personal bonds. Paul had been outgoing, highly capable, and energetic—ideal for Joe's assistant. But after three years, he was a fading shadow of his former self.