The Night I Left, He Turned Grey

"So what if I am? So what if I’m not?" Nathaniel Cole glanced at Leila Jennings beside him. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and the tip of her nose was red from the cold wind.

He moved to her other side, shielding her from the wind.

Sean Sinclair’s eyes were filled with nothing but fury.

"President Cole, I’m sure you don’t want to see headlines about the president of The Cole Group stealing another man’s wife, do you? Even if you don’t care about your reputation, does The Cole Group not care either?"

Nathaniel Cole suddenly laughed.

It was a laugh laden with meaning.

’It seems Sean Sinclair really doesn’t know about the divorce.’

’To drive a woman to the point where she’d rather just walk away in silence... Sean Sinclair is a real piece of work.’

"You think Leila Jennings will always be your wife?"

At his words, Leila Jennings’s pupils constricted slightly. She called out, "President Cole."

"What? Was I wrong? The public has no idea President Sinclair is married. They don’t know he has a wife. All they know is that President Sinclair has a lover named Sarah Lynch. Everyone at the industry gala that night saw it. Everyone knows."

"In comparison, her being my secretary is a more open and legitimate position than her being your wife, Sean Sinclair."

"Judging by how close you and Ms. Lynch are, who knows when you’ll make your mistress an honest woman." Nathaniel Cole glanced at Leila Jennings out of the corner of his eye. "How could she possibly remain your wife forever?"

His tone was absolute.

Sean Sinclair’s hands, hanging by his sides, clenched into fists. He said coldly, "I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you, President Cole. Leila Jennings will always be my wife."

"Oh?" Nathaniel Cole’s smile was a taunt. "And what about your mistress?"

"President Cole!" Sean Sinclair’s breath hitched. "Watch what you say. Sarah is not a mistress, she’s my friend. Leila, you know that."

Sean Sinclair thought he’d hidden it well.

After all, he’d kept it a secret for four years.

"I know," Leila Jennings said to Sean Sinclair, her expression weary. "You’re just friends."

Sean Sinclair breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Nathaniel Cole shot her an icy glare. Even though he knew Leila just wanted to leave quietly without a messy confrontation with Sean Sinclair, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of anger—a frustration that she wasn’t standing up for herself more.

But beneath the anger was a deeper ache of compassion for her.

Leila had no one to back her up. If she didn’t just walk away quietly, it would be all too easy for a man of Sean Sinclair’s status and power to control her.

If Sean Sinclair didn’t want a divorce, Leila wouldn’t be able to get one.

Conversely, if he did want a divorce, he could cast her aside like a worn-out shoe at any moment.

"President Sinclair, I have something you might want to see." Nathaniel Cole walked toward Sean Sinclair. Though a few months younger, he was a good half-head taller.

Sean Sinclair had to look up to meet his gaze.

"Do friends kiss, President Sinclair?" Nathaniel Cole pulled up a video on his phone and said in a low voice only the two of them could hear, "You had some bad luck, President Sinclair. That night at the industry gala, in the corner with your mistress? I filmed it. Recorded the audio, too."

Sean Sinclair froze.

As he watched Nathaniel Cole increase the screen’s brightness and move to turn up the volume, he frantically stopped him.

"President Cole, what do you want?"

"Let Leila decide for herself whether she stays or goes, and I’ll delete the video." Nathaniel Cole didn’t beat around the bush.

But Sean Sinclair didn’t understand. "With your family background and capabilities, President Cole, what kind of woman couldn’t you have? Why are you so fixated on my wife?"

"That’s none of your business," Nathaniel Cole said, his gaze sharp. "Make your choice, President Sinclair."

Unwilling to risk Leila finding out about his sordid affair, Sean Sinclair took a deep breath and asked, "Where are you taking her, President Cole?"

"So you’ve made your choice." A small smile played on Nathaniel Cole’s lips as he glanced at his driver in the distance. The driver nodded, made a quick call, and a Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of them.

The driver stepped forward and handed Sean Sinclair a business card. "President Sinclair, you can go to this address tomorrow to pick up a replacement Bentley of the same model."

"That won’t be necessary." Sean Sinclair didn’t take the card. He could afford to buy his own car.

He couldn’t lose face in front of Leila.

"Leila, are you really not coming back with me?"

"I’m not dropping the lawsuit, and I’m not apologizing to Cecilia Sinclair." Leila’s gaze flickered between the two men. She didn’t know what Nathaniel Cole had said, but Sean Sinclair had actually caved.

Sean Sinclair frowned slightly, then nodded after a moment’s hesitation. "Fine. Just come back with me first."

"I don’t want to go back to the Sinclair residence," Leila refused again.

"Why?" Sean Sinclair realized he understood her less and less. "We’re just going back."

"No, I don’t want to." Afraid he would keep pressing, Leila said firmly, "I don’t want to, and that’s final."

Just then, Nathaniel Cole opened the car door and stood beside it, looking at Leila.

Leila was no fool. She knew Sean Sinclair was intimidated by Nathaniel Cole, and she also knew that she couldn’t win a fight against Sean on her own.

It was just like at the research institute; even though she was the project lead, she’d been powerless to stop Sarah Lynch from forcing her way onto the team as an "external consultant."

The only power she had was to keep Sarah Lynch away from the core data, and even that had earned her threats from Mr. Jacobs.

Life was full of bureaucracy.

Every circle had its own local elite.

Leila got into the car. Nathaniel Cole followed right after, and the door shut behind them.

Sean Sinclair’s figure grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

"President Cole, I owe you twice now." Leila gave Nathaniel Cole a slight bow. "A meal or two is hardly enough to express my gratitude. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, I’ll do my best."

"Don’t quit your job," was Nathaniel Cole’s only request.

Leila paused, then shook her head. "I can’t do that."

’She knew which to choose between being a researcher and a secretary.’

One second she was promising to do her best, the next she was flat-out refusing him.

Nathaniel Cole’s face turned cold, and he said nothing.

Silence filled the car.

In the end, Nathaniel Cole was the one who broke the silence.

"Leila." His tone was serious.

Leila turned her head, showing she was listening intently.

Nathaniel Cole said, "Working in the president’s office, your monthly salary is higher than the average in City A. Even after you leave Sean Sinclair, you can support yourself. You won’t have to be at anyone’s mercy."

Leila’s body went still.

The way she looked at Nathaniel Cole changed. A flicker of light appeared in her once-dim eyes.

"President Cole... thank you." Her voice was no longer as cool as water; it now held a touch of warmth.

Nathaniel Cole: "Don’t quit."

Leila: "I have to."

Nathaniel Cole: "..."

’All that for nothing.’

’Ungrateful woman.’

He cursed silently in his heart.

Nathaniel Cole told the driver to go to the Thorne Residence, but Leila quickly interjected, "President Cole, I’m going to Norsen today."

It was Mrs. Cheney’s house.

It was still early, so she could go over and get things organized.

"Norsen?" Nathaniel Cole turned to look at her, a quizzical expression on his face.

Leila blinked. "It’s very close."

’Of course he knew it was close.’

’He lived in Norsen.’

’But Villa No. 1 and Villa No. 9 were far apart.’

The car drove toward Norsen. When they reached the security booth, the gate lifted automatically, and a voice welcomed the owner home.

Leila knew at once that Nathaniel Cole lived here too.

She also realized then that Norsen wasn’t just some ordinary villa complex. And yet Professor Cheney had simply described it with the single word "house."

’Fair enough.’ 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

’Professor Cheney had mentioned that Mrs. Cheney had married beneath her station to be with him.’

"Which number?" Nathaniel Cole asked.

"Number nine," Leila said.

Nathaniel Cole nodded. "Mm."

He had the driver take her to the door of Villa No. 9. After watching Leila key in the code and go inside, he immediately called Zachary.

"Look into the owner of No. 9 Norsen."