His Lies, Traps, And Love Free Preview

Early winter drizzled over Javerton,

The senior patriarch of the Zimmerman family, Jos Zimmerman, had passed away a month ago.

Charlotte Ashton stared at the marriage agreement on the table. The three-year term had just ended.

Resting her chin on her hand, she twirled her pen and sketched on a piece of paper, looking a bit absent-minded.

No one would have guessed that she was, in fact, the wife of the Zimmerman family's eldest grandson in Javerton.

It was truly absurd. Three years ago, she needed money, and the Zimmerman family needed someone to marry into their family, hoping it would be their charm for good fortune.

So, she was chosen by Thomas Zimmerman. All the formalities were handled by a secretary, and afterward, Charlotte was brought into the Zimmerman family.

Throughout the process, Charlotte never even saw what Thomas looked like.

Thomas only gave Charlotte money, and Charlotte only needed to please Jos.

When Jos passed away, this unseen wife naturally stepped out of the picture, having no claim or reason to attend the funeral.

It was only then that Thomas returned.

A perfect miss.

Charlotte let out a scoff.

The name "Thomas" happened to be scribbled on her original sketches.

Charlotte promptly crossed it out with large X's.

She assumed Thomas must either be disabled or so disfigured that he had no choice but to keep himself carefully concealed.

But Charlotte didn't dwell on it.

She put the prenuptial agreement away and found Thomas' phone number.

This was the first time in three years that Charlotte took the initiative to contact Thomas.

And it was oddly awkward.

The phone rang a few times before it was finally answered.

"Thomas speaking, who's this?"

"Charlotte Ashton," Charlotte immediately introduced herself.

"Charlotte Ashton?" Thomas's tone sounded puzzled, but soon, a deep, baritone voice followed, "It's you."

Charlotte let out a casual "Yeah," showing no trace of fear, probably because they had never met.

"Do you need something?" Thomas sounded a bit cold.

"Yes," Charlotte responded seriously. "Let's get a divorce."

Thomas's eyes narrowed slightly, turning sharp in an instant.

This divorce was bound to happen, but he hadn't expected Charlotte to bring it up first.

Charlotte's soft voice continued in Thomas's ear. "The three-year term is up, Mr. Jos has already passed, and I don't need to act as your wife anymore to keep him happy." She paused before finishing, "So, isn't divorce perfectly fitting now?"

It all seemed premeditated. Even the words she spoke sounded like they'd been rehearsed countless times, leaving no trace of nervousness.

For a moment, Thomas experienced a fleeting illusion. It felt as though the person speaking wasn't Charlotte but a business rival locked in negotiation with him. The sensation was profoundly unsettling.

Yet, out of pride, Thomas refused to reveal any emotion to Charlotte. His voice became even colder. "You want a divorce?"

Charlotte remained calm and unhurried. "Don't you?"

It was as if the question had been thrown back to Thomas.

Thomas let out a sneer. "Fine. Mr. Avery will contact you tomorrow."

Avery Scott was Thomas' personal lawyer, and it was Avery who had prepared the marriage agreement when they married.

So Charlotte was no stranger to Avery.

Charlotte nodded and murmured, "Alright."

Thomas didn't say anything more and hung up the phone.

Charlotte stared at the disconnected phone, shrugged, and looked indifferent.

There was nothing unusual about it.

After all, aside from their marriage certificate, they were little more than strangers.

To be fair, in the three years of marriage, Thomas had been generous with money.

Charlotte never had to worry about her daily life, and she had unlimited credit cards.

But the emotional distance between them was vast, perhaps even colder than her relationship with the neighbor's Samoyed.

After speaking with Thomas, Charlotte picked up her phone and sent a WhatsApp message, "I'm getting a divorce."

There was no reply.

Charlotte wasn't bothered.

Soon after, she lowered her head and focused on her drawing again.

...

The next day, before Charlotte could even make it to the office, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and it was Avery calling.

Charlotte didn't hesitate and answered, "Hello, Mr. Avery."

"Hello, Mrs. Zimmerman," Avery responded, still addressing her formally, "Mr. Thomas asked me to inform you that you are to come to the office at nine in the morning to sign the divorce agreement."

"Alright," Charlotte replied with a hint of resignation.

Avery promptly ended the call.

Charlotte called a colleague, apologized to a client, then exited the subway. Navigating by memory, she switched lines and arrived at Avery's office just before nine.

This was Charlotte's second time here.

The first had been before her marriage to Thomas.

After sitting down, Charlotte realized Thomas wasn't there. It made sense. Since he hadn't even bothered to show up to sign their marriage agreement.

Avery was efficient and quickly placed the divorce agreement in front of Charlotte.

"Mrs. Zimmerman, this is the divorce agreement. If there are no issues, please sign to confirm, and I will handle the other formalities," Avery said in a professional tone.

Charlotte nodded and looked down at the few pages of the divorce agreement.

She wasn't foolish. Every clause in the agreement favored Thomas and served no purpose for her.

Even this three-year marriage couldn't be mentioned after the divorce.

She would still be the unseen Mrs. Zimmerman.

And after three years of marriage, Charlotte wouldn't receive any of Thomas' assets.

But Charlotte didn't mind.

Thomas had been generous enough. He gave her enough cash and two villas. With that, Charlotte was already a millionaire in Javerton.

She quickly signed the divorce agreement.

Avery frowned in confusion.

He couldn't tell whether Charlotte was truly noble or just pretending to be reserved. The traps in this agreement were obvious to anyone with some sense, but Charlotte signed it without hesitation.

Avery felt a pang of sympathy. "Mrs. Zimmerman, do you have any other requests? I'll mention anything reasonable to Mr. Thomas."

After all, a day of marriage carried more weight than even the greatest of kindnesses. Thomas wouldn't have turned it down.

Moreover, with so many harsh terms, they probably expected Charlotte to be upset and cause a scene, but instead, she remained calm and unfazed.

To Thomas, ten million in cash and two villas were pocket change, something he could give away with his eyes closed.

Yet, Charlotte listened to Avery and actually gave it some thought.

Avery felt he had misjudged her.

He instinctively looked at the glass behind him, knowing Thomas was there. While they couldn't see him, Thomas could clearly see everything happening in the room.

"There is," Charlotte replied crisply.

"Go ahead." Avery nodded.

"I'd like to take the kissing gouramis in the apartment. I bought it three years ago," Charlotte said.

Avery was dumbfounded. "Just that?"

"Yes," Charlotte confirmed.

She then stood, smiling as she handed the document back to Avery. "Mr. Avery, my paperwork is signed. Thank you for your hard work. Just let me know when you've finished with the rest, and I'll come in to complete the divorce procedure."

With that, Charlotte nodded and left, walking out briskly.

Avery stood in silence, unsure if Charlotte felt genuinely relieved after signing the papers.

After she left, the office door suddenly opened.

A tall figure stepped out, dressed in a formal black suit.

The top two buttons of his white shirt were casually undone, his Adam's apple bobbed, exuding both chastity and sensuality. His sharply defined facial features and deep-set eyes made a striking impression.

It was Thomas.

But it was the dark expression on his face that made people instinctively step back.

Avery hesitantly spoke, "Mr. Thomas."

Without saying a word, Thomas walked straight in the direction Charlotte had gone.

This wasn't the first time Thomas had seen Charlotte. Over the past three years, Thomas had encountered Charlotte several times, though she had never known.

Charlotte had always been good at keeping Jos happy.

The usually aloof Jos had been highly satisfied with Charlotte.

In Thomas's eyes, Charlotte had taken quite a few benefits from Jos.

He couldn't believe that a woman so focused on money could remain so calm and detached during the divorce.

He kept thinking about uncovering the false mask Charlotte had put on.

…

When Charlotte left the law firm, she noticed it had started to rain in Javerton.

She felt a bit frustrated. Suddenly, an umbrella appeared behind her.

Charlotte froze for a moment.

Thomas took the initiative. "I saw you coming out of Mr. Avery's office and figured you must be an acquaintance."

"Are you a lawyer at the firm too?" Charlotte asked instinctively.

"Sort of," Thomas replied after a moment of thought. "Where are you headed? I can give you a ride."

Charlotte glanced at the rain, which seemed to be getting heavier.

She smiled at Thomas. "It's fine, I'll just take a taxi."

There was no need to accept favors from someone she wasn't close to.

Thomas paused, clearly surprised by Charlotte's rejection.

However, he remained calm on the surface and didn't push the matter further, simply standing still.

Charlotte looked at Thomas, a bit surprised.

"It's raining, and you don't have an umbrella. I'll wait until you get a taxi, then I'll leave," Thomas explained softly when Charlotte looked at him.

Charlotte had a baby face. Her large eyes were lively, almost as if they could speak, and her long lashes fluttered slightly.

Her face wasn't the sharp, trendy look of today's influencers, but a rounded, full oval.

Her red lips parted and closed, naturally stunning, and her skin was fair with a healthy, rosy glow.

Her shoulder-length, youthful bob complemented her outfit of light blue jeans, a white shirt, sneakers, and a backpack slung over her shoulder.

For a moment, Thomas felt as though he were speaking to someone much younger.

How old is she? She must be 24 by now.

However, Charlotte didn't notice Thomas' brief lapse in focus and instead stared at her phone screen, slightly frustrated.

In Javerton, getting a taxi in the rain was nearly impossible.

She only took two hours off and would have to meet a client later. She couldn't just push all her work aside.

"It should be hard to get a taxi. I'll give you a ride," Thomas's voice suddenly came.

This time, Charlotte looked at Thomas, blinking her big eyes without rejecting him. "Then I'll trouble you."

Saying this, Charlotte playfully gave a salute.

Thomas laughed silently and nodded. "Follow me."

Charlotte nodded and quietly followed him.

Although they were both holding the same umbrella, they still kept a proper distance.

When they reached the car, Thomas courteously opened the door for Charlotte, holding the umbrella above her to keep her from getting wet.

Charlotte got in the car and silently gave Thomas a very high impression score.

Soon, Thomas got in the car.

"Where are you going?" Thomas asked, feigning ignorance.

Charlotte didn't hide it. "Eldridge Residence."

Eldridge Residence was one of the top luxury estates in Javerton, located in the most bustling yet peaceful part of the city center. It wasn't a place you could live in just because you had money, it required a certain social status.

Eldridge Residence was a luxury property developed by Zimmerman Group. Naturally, Thomas had reserved the penthouse.

But in the three years of their marriage, Thomas had never been there. Charlotte was the only one who had.

After Charlotte spoke, she naturally noticed Thomas' gaze on her.

She remained calm. "I don't live there. I just work there. Now that my contract has ended, I'm going to take my personal belongings and return the access card."

Saying this, Charlotte waved the access card in her hand.

Thomas' hand suddenly tightened around the steering wheel. "Work?"

"Yeah." Charlotte nodded. "A nanny job."

Thomas was left momentarily speechless. As Mrs. Zimmerman, she is calling herself a nanny?

Apparently, Thomas had forgotten that it was in the contract, forbidding Charlotte from mentioning anything related to the Zimmerman family.

"You're so young, why would you work as a nanny?" Thomas asked cautiously, following Charlotte's words.

"The employer is generous. I'm short on money." Charlotte didn't hide anything, speaking openly.

Thomas glanced at her sideways.

It was probably the first time he'd met a woman who could express her need for money and love for it so clearly.

"Since the employer is generous, why not continue the contract?" Thomas asked casually while driving.

Charlotte sat upright in the passenger seat, her voice soft and sweet, although her posture was serious.

"Because I don't need money anymore." Charlotte said firmly, then changed the subject. "I still don't know your name."

"Thom... Zimmerman..." As soon as he said it, Thomas suddenly stopped.

Charlotte didn't think much about it and just took his name as Tom. "Hello, Mr. Tom."

Thomas casually responded.

The atmosphere in the car quieted down, as if neither knew what to say.

Soon, the car stopped in front of Eldridge Residence.

"Mr. Tom, thank you." Charlotte politely thanked Thomas.

When she smiled, her dimples were deep, and her eyes curved. She grabbed her bag and opened the car door, stepping out without hesitation.

Thomas watched Charlotte's retreating figure. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, leaning against the car window.

His deep eyes made it hard to guess his mood.

He quietly took out a cigarette from the small compartment.

He held it between his index and middle fingers, narrowing his eyes.

Javerton was still drizzling, the rain falling densely and splashing on the ground.

Thomas was busy. He was indeed a top lawyer, but also the head of Zimmerman Group.

He shouldn't be wasting time on someone unimportant.

But he was the one who had been divorced. It felt like his pride had been trampled underfoot, and he wanted to regain something. More than that, he wanted to see what Charlotte was up to.

Thomas convinced himself.

…

Ten minutes later, Thomas spotted Charlotte emerging from the apartment, apparently having exchanged a few words with the security guard.

The security guard seemed to have flushed after their conversation.

Thomas tightened his frown even further.

He looked up at the still-falling rain.

In a move he hadn't anticipated, Thomas picked up the umbrella once more and headed toward the building.

"Finished?" Thomas asked softly, stepping up beside Charlotte.

Charlotte was startled, as was the security guard.

"Mr. Tom?" Charlotte was the first to speak.

"I noticed it's still raining, so I decided to wait a bit. Since I've already offered you a ride, I might as well take you all the way to your final destination," Thomas explained with quiet composure.

The explanation seemed entirely reasonable.

Charlotte glanced upward and saw that the rain was indeed still coming down.

In Javerton, once the rain started in this season, it seemed to last endlessly.

Catching a taxi was out of the question, and kissing gouramis weren't allowed on the subway.

If they went in circles, she would really be late for the client. It seemed she couldn't refuse Thomas after all. But Charlotte couldn't figure out what Thomas was truly up to.

"Where do you live? I'll take you there," Thomas said, a man in control of the situation.

Charlotte, holding the kissing gouramis, thought for a moment. "Then I'll trouble you again, Mr. Tom. I live at Hinton Residence."

She had lived there even before marrying Thomas. Now, it was just a matter of going home.

Thomas responded with a quiet "okay."

Soon, they were back in the car, heading toward Hinton Residence.

Thomas was the one to initiate the conversation. "So, you're just coming back to pick up the fish?"

"Yeah." Charlotte nodded. "I've had it for three years. I've grown attached."

Thomas' thin lips moved, about to ask something more, but then he remembered his current position. The words died on his tongue.

The rest of the journey passed in silence.

Thomas wasn't one for small talk, and for Charlotte, Thomas was just a stranger. She had no intention of engaging further.

...

Thirty minutes later, the car pulled up to the side of the road.

"Mr. Tom, you can stop here. The rain has lightened, and it's just a few steps to the entrance. The car would have a hard time turning around inside," Charlotte spoke up.

Thomas glanced over.

It was true. If the car went in, it would be difficult to get out.

He didn't insist.

Thomas thought Charlotte would just get out of the car, but instead, Charlotte took out her phone. "Mr. Tom, do you have WhatsApp?"

Thomas squinted at her.

It was an instinct. He sensed that, despite Charlotte's words, she wasn't as magnanimous about their divorce as she seemed. In reality, she was swiftly seeking someone else to move on with, just after their separation.

"I do," Thomas replied without confronting her.

"Then add my contact on WhatsApp." Charlotte handed Thomas her QR code for WhatsApp.

Thomas scanned it and added Charlotte.

Charlotte quickly accepted.

Then, she grabbed her fish and got out of the car, waving goodbye to Thomas.

Thomas was bewildered. Before he could process what had just happened, Charlotte had already turned and was walking toward the old apartment.

Thomas furrowed his brow.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated. It was a notification.

He opened it to check.

It was a PayPal transfer via phone number notification from Charlotte.

Exactly one hundred dollars.

The fare from the law firm to Eldridge Residence, and then from Eldridge Residence to Hinton Residence, was paid at the private car rate.

Charlotte texted, "Here's the fare. Thank you, Mr. Tom."

Thomas was speechless.

In the end, Thomas just laughed in frustration. So, does she really see me as just a driver?

His long fingers slid across the screen, and, without meaning to, he accidentally clicked the transfer.

There was no chance for an explanation.

Quick to react, Thomas immediately typed a message. "No need. It was just a small favor."

But when he sent the message and tried to return the money, he discovered that Charlotte had blocked him.

Thomas was stunned.

It was well known in Stroudston how many people would kill for Thomas' personal contact number.

But Charlotte had gotten it, and all she did was send him fare money and then block him.

Her action was clean and swift.

Thomas continued to play with his phone, his gaze deepening.

Charlotte, you really are something.

…

But soon, Thomas was distracted by an earring on the passenger seat.

It was old-fashioned and didn't look very valuable.

He reached out and hooked the earring closer.

Thomas recognized these earrings.

Charlotte wore them everywhere.

He had seen Charlotte wearing them several times, even in dimly lit places.

To cherish something so much, it had to hold some significance.

Thomas suddenly smiled.

If Charlotte could block him, he could just as easily wait for her to come back and find him again.

With that thought in mind, Thomas, calm and unhurried, put the earring away and drove straight back to the office.

When he arrived at the office, Thomas called Avery.

"Put the divorce paperwork on hold for now."

...

One month later...

Charlotte was hunched over her desk, sketching.

This design had been sent back countless times. It had caused the whole team to panic and complain.

Clients always had a way of asking tricky, unexpected questions that left you caught off guard.

Charlotte was no exception.

She never imagined she would be tangled with Zimmerman Group in this way.

This was a new development by a real estate subsidiary of Zimmerman Group.

Charlotte's company was one of the top in the architecture field.

And no one had expected that someone with a baby face, who looked barely of legal age, like Charlotte, would be a well-known architect in the industry.

Because of her appearance, Charlotte never took the lead in facing clients.

Clients wouldn't trust someone with a baby face.

So Charlotte always acted as an assistant beside her boss, carefully noting down the clients' requests.

But Zimmerman Group was absolutely the client Charlotte hated the most, hands down. Yet, their prices were the best in the industry.

"Ah!" Charlotte let out a frustrated scream.

A colleague nearby offered some comfort, "Charlotte, you'll definitely get it right this time."

Charlotte bit down on the straw, nodding vigorously, as the conversations of her colleagues about Zimmerman Group filled her ears.

"The president of Zimmerman Group is so mysterious, he's never been exposed."

"But Thomas is incredible. Zimmerman Group is unstoppable in his hands."

"Did you hear? Thomas is getting engaged."

...

Charlotte paused for a moment, her chewing on the straw stopping.

Engaged just one month after the divorce? That‘s truly something.

But Charlotte couldn't help but speak up, "What's so special about a second-hand man?"

A colleague couldn't help but glance at Charlotte.

Charlotte cleared her throat and quickly laughed it off. "Look, Thomas never shows his face. He's probably incredibly ugly. You all are just romanticizing him because you read too many novels."

"Well, he's rich, after all." Her colleague nodded, pragmatic.

Charlotte remained silent. Well, true. Three years ago, I married for money. Even if he were an ugly monster, I'd have had to accept it, after all.

The conversation, originally about Thomas, somehow shifted to Charlotte.

"Charlotte, where are your earrings?" a colleague suddenly asked. "I always see you wearing them, but now I haven't seen them. It's a bit strange."

Charlotte took a deep sip of iced Americano and instinctively touched her earlobe.

"They fell off," she replied quietly.

The night of the divorce, Charlotte came home and couldn't find her earrings.

She had wondered if they had fallen in Thomas' car.

But since she had blocked his contact, she felt too embarrassed to unblock him, leaving the matter unresolved.

Her colleague comforted her a bit but didn't say much else.

Charlotte lowered her head and continued drawing furiously.

On the side draft paper, there were countless instances of Thomas' name, crossed out repeatedly.

...

At 9 p.m., Charlotte finally finished work.

But instead of going home, she headed to a nightclub in the city center.

The person in charge of the Zimmerman Group project preferred to discuss things in places like this.

If the client wanted it, Charlotte had no choice but to endure.

After all, she was the lead designer on the project.

Franklin Quinn parked the car and, looking at Charlotte's baby face, sighed. "Charlotte, I feel like I'm committing a crime every time I take you out."

"Well, then you could go alone, record it, and tell me later?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

"Ms. Charlotte, please don't," Franklin replied, half-joking.

He was genuinely worried that Charlotte would just turn and leave, so he had coaxed her all the way into the nightclub.

Charlotte, though made up, still couldn't hide her youthful face, and even the security guard at the entrance gave Franklin an extra look.

Franklin shuddered under the gaze.

However, Charlotte remained unfazed. "The design here is outstanding."

"Ms. Charlotte, you really have an eye for detail," Franklin said, impressed.

No matter where she was, Charlotte's focus was always on architecture, nothing else.

Charlotte didn't respond to Franklin. "I'm going to the restroom. See you in a bit."

"Don't get lost," Franklin said, somewhat concerned.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "It's a nightclub, but it's legally operated. What are you worried about, Mr. Franklin?"

After a moment's thought, Franklin agreed.

Charlotte quickly walked toward the restroom, her head lowered, her steps fast. It wasn't until she bumped into someone that she looked up, apologizing, "Sorry..."

As the words left her mouth, Charlotte felt a bit awkward.

She waved her hand, smiling brightly, "Mr. Tom, good to see you."

There was no hint of hesitation or guilt for blocking his contact.

Thomas didn't expect to run into Charlotte at the nightclub, and his brow furrowed.

Without thinking, Thomas walked up to her, his voice tinged with a hint of accusation. "What are you doing here?"

This place was legally operated, but beneath the legal surface, it was involved in many gray industries. Any well-raised girl wouldn't easily be found here.

The women here were either mistresses or waiting to be taken out as escorts. Charlotte didn't belong in this place.

Yet tonight, Charlotte was wearing makeup, quite different from the completely bare-faced woman he had seen a month ago. She was both innocent and seductive.

Charlotte frowned at Thomas' question. This guy is too nosy.

She didn't offer much of an explanation. "Work."

With that, Charlotte tried to walk toward the restroom.

But Thomas was quicker, gripping her wrist tightly. "What kind of work requires you to come to a nightclub?"

His tone was disapproving, even a little grim, as if he were scolding a kid.

Well, he was only six years older than her.

"Well, it has nothing to do with you, Mr. Tom," Charlotte said with a forced smile.

She didn't say anything more, trying to pull her hand away, but Thomas held on so tightly she couldn't even struggle.

Now, Charlotte was completely at his mercy. "Mr. Tom, please have some respect."

"At a nightclub, you're asking a man for respect?" Thomas found it amusing.

Charlotte couldn't be bothered to explain.