Jeff stared at Laura Caldwell in genuine shock, unsure what she was implying.
Laura rose from her knees, no longer pleading on the floor. Her expression shifted—resolute, almost sacrificial, eyes burning with quiet determination.
"President Sterling," she said evenly, "I came here tonight because my husband Caldwell Sr., my son Ryan, people from your Horizon Group, and half the executives at our company already know the whole story."
Jeff nodded slowly. "I'm aware. And?"
Laura took a steadying breath. "Tonight… I can stay here. With you."
Jeff blinked, caught completely off guard. This woman—elegant, composed, easily twenty years his senior—was offering herself without hesitation.
Only now did he fully grasp her earlier words.
The scandal was public: Ryan had slept (or nearly slept) with Jeff's ex-wife, humiliating the Chairman of Horizon Group in front of the entire city.
If Jeff slept with Ryan's mother in return, the scales would balance. No one would dare mock him again. The revenge would be poetic—far more cutting than physical harm to Ryan.
Jeff looked at her, stunned. He never imagined she'd go this far to protect her son.
"Mrs. Caldwell…"
His gaze fell to the wedding ring on her finger. The awkwardness hit hard.
Laura gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. "Of course, I know I can't compare to Emily or Victoria. I'm just a middle-aged woman whose youth is long gone. If I don't appeal to you, I'll accept it completely."
Jeff shifted uncomfortably. She *was* older—too old, by most standards.
But among women her age, Laura was exceptionally well-preserved: flawless skin, poised figure, the kind of mature allure that turned heads at charity galas. She could easily pass for a timeless Hollywood actress in her prime.
"You're beautiful, Mrs. Caldwell," Jeff said honestly. "Older, yes—but you have a grace and maturity that younger women can't touch."
The compliment eased the tension in her shoulders, color returning faintly to her cheeks.
Still, Jeff continued gently, "Even so… I have no such intentions toward you."
Laura's head dipped again, her plan crumbling.
"But," Jeff added, surprising even himself, "I've heard you sing. Beautifully. If you'd like to stay… and sing for me, I'd be glad to listen."
He'd seen a video once—posted on Victoria Lang's social media—of Laura performing at a private event. Her voice was rich, nostalgic, haunting. He'd saved it.
Laura's eyes widened, then softened into a genuine smile. "President Sterling, I'd be honored to sing for you. All night, if you wish. What kind of songs do you prefer? Modern pop from the last few years? I'm afraid I don't know those—I've been out of touch."
Jeff leaned back. "To be honest, Mrs. Caldwell… the first time I saw your photo, you reminded me of the singers from the nostalgic times. And what a coincidence—you're from the Emerald Coast, with that same vintage elegance."
"My grandfather used to tell me stories about that era. He called it the golden age: elegance, romance, a perfect blend of modern and classic. Women in tight pencil dress, swaying in dimly lit nightclubs, white feather fans in hand, voices like silk."
"I'd love to hear those old songs."
Laura looked pleasantly surprised. "So, you want a taste of old Emerald Coast glamour. Those songs are a bit before my time, I grew up on John Lennon and beyond, but my mother sang them often. I know them well."
She paused. "Give me a moment, Mr. Sterling. I'll have someone bring a tight pencil dress and a microphone."
Jeff had been about to offer—he had a collection of vintage-inspired pieces—but he realized
tight red pencil dress was always custom fitted. He didn't know her measurements.
Twenty minutes later, a discreet delivery arrived: twenty exquisite tight pencil dress, all high-end, hand-stitched silk.
Laura clearly had a passion for them.
"Mr. Sterling, please choose one for me."
She spread them across the sofa like a fan of color and texture.
Jeff, without hesitation, picked them up one by one—feeling the fabric, studying the cut, the embroidery. Finally, he selected a soft beige one: high collar, side slits, subtle pearl inlays.
"This one."
Laura took it reverently. "Yes, sir. Please wait. I'll change and sing 'The Wandering Songstress' for you first."
...
2:30 a.m., Caldwell Estate.
Caldwell Sr. sat in the living room, chain-smoking. The ashtray overflowed.
Ryan came downstairs, still groggy. "Dad? What's wrong?"
Caldwell Sr. crushed another cigarette. "Your mother went to see Sterling. She hasn't come back."
"What?" Ryan checked his phone—2:30 a.m. "She's been gone all night? What the hell is she doing at his place?"
"Did you call her?"
"I did. Phone's off."
Ryan's face paled. "She turned it off? Something happened—Dad, let's grab some guys and go get her!"
He reached for his shoes.
Caldwell Sr. stopped him. "Before she powered down, she sent me a message: 'Don't come looking for me.'"
Ryan froze. Rage boiled over. He already knew—deep down—what must have transpired between his mother and Jeff Sterling.
At 5 a.m., Laura finally returned to the estate.
Father and son had waited all night.
Ryan rushed forward. "Mom! Where were you? That bastard Sterling—he did something to you, didn't he?!"
Laura's eyes flashed. "Enough! Don't provoke him again. He's not someone you can touch."
"Ryan… Jeff has promised me he won't harm you. You can stop rushing to have kids. You can go out normally again."
Caldwell Sr.'s face—already flushed from stress—turned purple with fury.
He stepped forward and slapped Laura hard across the cheek.
*Crack!*
"Who gave you permission?!" he roared. "You're still my wife! How dare you humiliate me like this—to save face for *me*?!"
Laura didn't flinch. "I couldn't stand by and watch our son be destroyed! Xianzhu—if the business collapses, we'll be ruined. No money, no face. Nothing."
"No! No! No!" Ryan screamed, voice cracking. "Mom—Grandma's family is loaded! The Liu side is old Emerald Coast money. Beg them—they can crush Sterling!"
Laura shook her head sadly. "Son… my family opposed this marriage from the start. Now that your father's dragged us into this mess, they won't lift a finger. We have to accept it."
"I won't accept it!" Ryan shouted, tears mixing with rage. "If you won't beg, I will! Sterling destroyed our family—insulted you! I'll make him pay ten times over!"
He shoved on his shoes and bolted out the door into the pre-dawn dark…