Goodbye, My Love

Chapter 12---Who Else But Elena?

Wendy Taylor had to admit that Madeline Cook was truly adept at reading people.

Hudson, along with Vertex Group's legal team, personally showed up. If they didn't retract the article and issue a public apology, they would receive a court summons the next day.

All Wendy wanted was to help Madeline teach Elena Peterson, that seemingly innocent flower, a lesson—and incidentally make things harder for Mr. Cook, to repay the injustice Madeline had endured in the Cook family over the past three years.

She had been in the entertainment industry for nearly a decade, mostly orchestrating these kinds of half-true, half-false public opinion battles. Wasn't this exactly how rivals fought—by releasing official statements to tarnish each other?

Besides, Mr. Cook had failed to maintain proper boundaries with other women during his three-year marriage to Madeline. Those photos existed for a reason—he wasn't entirely innocent.

Wendy hadn't expected the other side to show up so boldly with lawyers. The two attorneys squawked like roosters at dawn, nonstop, until somehow she found herself backed into a corner.

But she had spent years cultivating her cool, aloof queen image. Wendy refused to show weakness. She fixed Hudson with a cold smirk: "You've said a lot. But Hudson, do you even know who gave Madeline those photos?"

Hudson hadn't expected the conversation to pivot so suddenly. He faltered slightly, then followed her lead: "Who?"

"Who else but Elena Peterson? You can ask me to take down the article—I don't care. But can you make Elena Peterson take back the photos she sent to Madeline?"

Hudson couldn't do that. This sudden truth left him speechless. But after serving Mr. Cook for seven or eight years, he still had his wits about him in a crisis. "Miss Taylor, may I ask—what exactly is your relationship with Ms. Jenkins?"

"None of your damn business!"

"…"

Hudson left with the two lawyers. Only after they were gone did Wendy take off her sunglasses and pat her chest. "Scared the life out of me!"

Serena Halberg couldn't bear to watch. "At least keep up appearances! What if someone saw you like this?"

"Relax, Serena! There's no one around! Oh—my phone's ringing. It's Maddie! I've got to report my victory!"

Serena rolled her eyes and shut the door with a huff.

Wendy assumed Madeline was calling to check on the results, ready to boast a little. But before she could speak, Madeline's voice came through the phone, calm and flat: "Have the articles taken down. Stop buying trending topics. My matter with Mr. Cook… let's just leave it here. For now."

Wendy froze. "…If you've been kidn*pped, just say the word."

"Stop fooling around, Bighead. I'm just tired."

The voice did sound weary. Wendy pressed her lips together, reluctant but resigned. "Fine. But don't be sad. From now on, we'll shine on our own. Single life is just too good."

"Too good what?"

A deep male voice cut in. Wendy startled, looked up, and saw Ellis Rockford standing there—she had no idea when he arrived. She quickly hunched her shoulders. "I didn't say anything!"

Helpless, pitiful, and small.

Hearing Ellis's voice, Madeline smiled faintly, ended the call, and turned toward the kitchen, planning to cook herself a rich, delicious dinner to soothe her wounded heart.

An hour later—nah, she'd just order takeout.

All the articles were pulled. The messy love triangle involving Madeline, Mr. Cook, and Elena Peterson had reached its peak—then abruptly ended.

Without press releases and with Mr. Cook suppressing the news, the incident had calmed by evening.

But that night, Mr. Cook couldn't sleep.

When Hudson told him the photos came from Elena Peterson, something strange happened—he suddenly remembered Madeline's words: "You really think too highly of yourself."

At the time, he hadn't thought much of it. Assumed she was just angry.

But now, with the truth revealed, Mr. Cook felt an inexplicable irritation.

Whatever. Smoke a cigarette and go to sleep.

After that day, Madeline kept a low profile. She disappeared from public conversation, as if she'd vanished entirely.

Everyone assumed she'd been broken by love, realized there was no hope, and quietly stepped away.

And while that was technically true, in reality, Madeline had just spent the past month living it up in Europe—skiing, bungee jumping, surfing, paragliding—fully immersed in the thrill.

"Sis. Jenkins!"

Madeline, who had been living it up for over a month, was planning to return home in a couple of days. Right now, she was at the duty-free shop, buying handbags and sold-out lipsticks for Wendy using her shopping list, when a familiar male voice called out. She was genuinely surprised.

She turned and saw Hayden Loxley—one of Nimbus's other rising stars.

"What are you doing here?"

Hayden was only twenty-one, clean-featured, with two little fangs. When he smiled, he looked like a total puppy-dog charmer.

"I just happened to have some time off. Sis. Wendy asked me to come pick you up."

Madeline tossed three lipsticks into her basket and gave him a half-smile. "What's she scheming now?"

Hayden wasn't as thick-skinned as Xavier. Under Madeline's gaze, his ears turned red. He ruffled his hair. "My movie comes out next month, the eighth. Sis. Wendy said we should boost the hype."

"Well, at least you're honest."

Madeline chuckled, tore the other half of the shopping list, and handed it to him. "Find these three bags for me."

"Got it, Sis. Jenkins."

Madeline's flight was at a little past eight the next morning. By the time she landed back in Avenis, it was already past three in the afternoon, Regalia time.

As soon as she and Hayden stepped off the plane, she spotted the paparazzi hired by Wendy taking photos.

They had eighty minutes in Regalia before transferring back to Avenis. They didn't reach home until after eight at night.

Hayden's manager arranged a car to take them back. Wendy's shopping list was long—Madeline couldn't carry it all. Hayden helped her load another suitcase into the car.

"Come on, heat up some water."

After changing into slippers, Madeline went to the kitchen, washed two cups, and poured a glass of warm water for Hayden.

"Sis. Jenkins, your smart home system seems pretty cool."

Madeline sat on the sofa, raising an eyebrow. "Like it? Tell Sis. Wendy to get you one."

Guys always loved this kind of tech. Hayden's face lit up immediately. "Is this from Declan Wentworth's company? I don't think it's on the market yet!"

Madeline nodded. "Yeah, approvals are in progress. Should hit the market by year-end. If you want, tell Sis. Wendy—I'll let you try it early."

"Really?"

"What's not to believe?"

"Thanks, Sis. Jenkins."

Madeline took a sip of water. "Don't thank me."

Hayden didn't stay long. After seeing him off, Madeline had Iry fill the bathtub. After unpacking her luggage, she changed into pajamas and soaked in the bath.

She'd been partying hard—fifteen straight hours on a plane. She fell asleep right in the tub.

Meanwhile, on Twitter's trending topics, "Hayden Loxley's mysterious girlfriend" had shot to number three.

Just finishing overtime, Mr. Cook's phone buzzed with a WeChat message from Holden Prescott. Before he even opened it, a news alert popped up with a photo.

Holden was so annoying sometimes, Mr. Cook thought, but he tapped in anyway. Their chat window: Holden Prescott: "Mason, your ex-wife's something else. How long has it been? Already onto another young star."

His fingertip opened the photo—there was Hayden Loxley, the nation's sweetheart, protectively shielding a woman with a great figure.

Only a third of her face was visible, but Mr. Cook recognized her instantly. The so-called "mysterious woman" with Hayden was Madeline—his ex-wife of three months.