Benson
Benson 23

Chapter 23 Shattered

Yvonne was confused about why she liked Benson. It felt like a hazy dream from adolescence–elusive yet real.

When she first met Benson in her youth, maybe it was his handsome face that attracted her. His smile, his eyes seemed to have a magical power, drawing her in uncontrollably.

In Yvonne’s spacious and exquisite office, Mary sat on the guest sofa, elegantly, as if she were the true owner of the place.

She wore a black dress, perfectly tailored to highlight her graceful figure, and the brooch on her chest added a touch of nobility.

Mary crossed her legs, her gaze sharp as she looked at Yvonne, her tone tinged with provocation: “Miss Yvonne, you are very beautiful. If you were in the entertainment industry, you’d achieve great success.

Yvonne stood in front of her desk, arms crossed, half–leaning, half–sitting, her gaze calm and deep as she looked at Mary,

She didn’t respond to Mary’s compliment immediately but quietly observed her. Mary continued, “But a woman’s beauty alone is useless; she’ll only become a man’s plaything. Once the novelty wears off, she’ll be discarded.”

Yvonne’s eyebrows raised slightly. She gathered her long hair and tied it into a simple bun, then slowly walked towards Mary.

Mary was puzzled. Her gaze involuntarily fell on Yvonne’s slender neck, where a fresh, clear red kiss mark, evidently left by Benson, was visible.

A surge of anger rose within Mary. She thought Benson had only been home for a few days and was already craving Yvonne’s body.

Yvonne stood before Mary, her voice not loud but filled with undeniable authority: “The brooch, will you give it to me yourself, or shall I take it off for you?” Her tone carried a powerful pressure, making Mary look at her more closely.

Mary had heard of Yvonne’s prowess, but this firsthand encounter showed Yvonne was even tougher than expected, unfazed by Mary’s words.

Mary attempted to respond, but Yvonne interrupted: “Miss Yvonne or Mrs. Taylor, choose one.

Mary’s assistant couldn’t help but interject, “The one not loved is the third party.”

Yvonne wore a cold smile, her eyes revealing sharp sarcasm.

Her lips curved slightly, but the smile brought no warmth, rather like a sharp blade piercing the heart.

Her voice was calm and indifferent: “If he loves you so much, why didn’t he marry you?”

Yvonne’s expression suddenly turned serious. She reached out to take the brooch, her voice firm: “This brooch doesn’t belong to Benson alone; it’s our marital property. I have the right to take it back Miss Mary, cooperate.”

Seeing this, Mary’s assistant immediately turned to call Benson, her voice pent: “Mr. Benson, Miss Yvonne is bullying Mary. Can you come over?

The assistant turned back, a proud look on her face, saying to Yvonne “Mr. Benson wants you to take the call.”

Yvonne took the phone without hesitation and hung up directly.

The assistant looked incredulous, stammering, “You, you..”

Benson, sitting in the back seat of his car, tightly gripped his now–dark phone, a faint, cold smile playing on his lips.

The smile seemed to carry an understanding of the situation and anticipation of what was about to unfold.

He looked up, his gaze firm, and instructed the driver: “To Huanya Films.”

George, sitting in the front passenger seat, turned with an excited smile: “Sir, are we going to see Madam?”

His voice hinted at eagerness for what was to come.

Benson’s sharp gaze swept over George, his brows slightly furrowed, puzzled by George’s excitement: “Why are you so happy to see her? Are you two close?”

Benson’s voice held a hint of vigilance. He wasn’t sure if George’s excitement was due to concern for the boss’s family or something else.

“I’m close to Madam. Over the years, she’s often called me to ask about you.”

Madam would inquire in detail about your work, diet, rest, even your mood changes.

She always reminded me to take good care of you, ensuring your health and safety.

Her concern wasn’t just in words. She expressed her care in various ways.

Sometimes, she’d personally prepare your favorite food for me to bring to the office.

Other times, she’d send health supplements, reminding me to look after you

Benson’s

was as sham is a blade

George hesitated but finally spoke “Madam didn’t allow it.” He knew her care stemmed from love, but to Benson, it might seem like interference and control.

Benson sneered, his voice tinged with irony: “You’re so obedient. Whose assistant are you, anyway?”

George muttered softly, trying to explain: “If I told you, you might resent Madam more, thinking she’s monitoring you.”

His voice carried a hint of worry, fearing Benson would misunderstand Madam’s concern as control and restriction.

Benson pushed open Yvonne’s office door, the scene before him making him frown.

Yvonne was crouched on the floor, her fingers carefully picking up scattered diamonds and turquoise.

These precious stones, originally embedded in Mary’s brooch, now lay scattered like broken dreams across the cold office floor.

Mary sat on the floor, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, her shoulders trembling with sobs

Her assistant stood nearby, a clear slap mark on her face, conspicuously noticeable.

The assistant’s eyes were full of grievance and fear. Seeing Benson, she grasped at him like a lifeline, tearfully complaining: “Sir, Miss Yvonne can’t just hit people when she’s unhappy.”

Yvonne seemed oblivious to Benson’s arrival, focused entirely on the scattered gems.

A diamond near Benson’s foot glinted faintly. Yvonne moved closer, her actions clumsy yet her gaze unwavering.

Benson’s eyes shifted from Mary to Yvonne.

His voice carried unquestionable authority and coldness: “Yvonne, what’s going on here?”