Chapter 23
Darian was speechless.
With a swift movement, he knocked Cecily's hand away and said coldly, "Can't you just stand still and listen to what I have to say?"
"So, whenever you want to talk, I should just come running? What am I, your pet dog?"
Darian's complexion turned hideous; it seemed like he was fighting the urge to strangle this sharp-tongued woman.
Larkin quietly prayed that Mr. Fitzgerald wouldn't pass out from his ex-wife's provocations.
Darian closed his eyes, forcefully suppressing his rage, "Cecily, your mouth is truly lethal."
"I know; you don't need to tell me."
Darian looked at Cecily 's cold, distant face; the words he had on the tip of his tongue just wouldn't come out.
"Can I go now?"
Without waiting for an answer from Darian, Cecily turned to leave. A second later, Darian caught her wrist and pinned her against the car.
Cecily's breath hitched, and a cold look flashed fiercely in her eyes, "What, have you become so brazen as to assault a woman in broad daylight on the street?"
"Hah," Darian scoffed, "I have no interest in your body."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"If you can't listen properly, I might have to resort to more drastic measures."
A mocking smile spread across Cecily’s face, "Alright, speak. I'm all ears."
As if she'd be impressed by his barking.
"Did you not promise to help me with my illness, or doesn't that count anymore?"
Hearing this, Cecily let out a chilly chuckle, "What, isn't you who said that my meager skills aren't enough to treat you?"
Darian let out a soft snort, "Aren't those the same meager skills that led me all the way to Dorde?"
Cecily clenched her teeth.
He was using her own words against her.
She scanned Darian's face, noting the dark circles under his weary eyes—clear signs of chronic sleep deprivation.
She'd seen his medical records; the man suffered from severe insomnia, and medication did little to help.
If Darian was truly seeking her help, the he must be desperate.
Cecily raised an eyebrow; treating him wasn't out of the question. After all, she had made a promise.
But her primary motive was to get into the Fitzgerald household to check on that boy.
A four or five-year-old boy, who was not his own or Ophelia's child, but a spitting image of Griffin? She had to see him.
She wasn't sure if her eyes were playing tricks, but if they weren't, that boy could be her other child.
Last night, Cecily entertained a daring thought: her other child hadn't died.
Although she hadn't the faintest idea of how he survived.
However, Cecily had a strong intuition.
And so, she must get inside the Fitzgerald home to see the child with her own eyes.
"Fine, but I have conditions," Cecily said with an icy gaze.
"Let's hear them."
"I'll treat you, and that's all. I won't be involved in anything else."
Darian's lips curled into a cold smirk, "Anything else? What exactly do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said—anything beyond your treatment."
Darian raised an eyebrow, "Agreed."
"Second, when I show up to treat you and Ophelia sees me at the Fitzgerald residence, do you think she might overthink it, bear a grudge, and maybe even plot against me?"
Cecily was in no mood to heal someone while also constantly worrying about her own safety.
Darian's gaze sharpened ever so slightly. "I can promise you that she won't be bothering you."
"Hope you can keep your word."
Cecily scoffed, fully aware that Darian probably couldn't pull it off, but by mentioning it, she hoped to plant a seed of caution in his mind.
“What else do you want? Spill it all now.”
“Third, let me go.” Her icy glance measured the distance between them before she pushed him away with a swift hand gesture.
Darian took a step back, his face curving into an inscrutable smile.
“So quick to agree. Are you hiding some ulterior motive?”
Cecily certainly wasn't going to tell him that she just wanted to check on that child.
The rest of his affairs meant nothing to her.
Even if he dropped dead, it would be of no concern to her.
“If you think I have an agenda, then don't come to me for help,” she said, brushing off non-existent dust from her outfit, before turning on her heel and walking away.
...
The Watson family home.
Cecily got out of her car, casting a cold smirk at the upscale villa in front of her.
This villa, purchased by her mother, was now in Raphael's name.
The place she had lived in for over a decade now filled her with discomfort.
As she entered the living room, Raphael, Elysia, and Liora were there, chatting and laughing together.
Upon Cecily's arrival, the trio paused, as if surprised by her audacity to return.
Seeing Cecily, with her air of chilly elegance, a surge of bitterness flooded Elysia.
She detested Cecily.
Why did she have to excel in everything—looks, physique, intellect—far surpassing her in every way?
Although she was Raphael's daughter too, she had spent years as the illegitimate child.
Hatred filled Elysia's eyes as she turned to Raphael with a look of sorrow, “Daddy, Cecily's back; I'm scared.”
Raphael spoke softly and consoled Elysia, but his glance toward Cecily was filled with utter contempt.
As if Cecily was not his daughter at all.
“You mangey creature, you still know the way back?” He sneered.
Cecily walked over and nonchalantly took a seat on the sofa. “If I'm a mangey creature, what does that make you? An old beast?” She retorted with an arched brow and a mocking light in her eyes.
"You!" Raphael fumed, his eyes bulging with anger, "Cecily, get on your knees and apologize to your sister this instant, and don't stop until she forgives you!"
Apologize on her knees?
Cecily looked at Raphael with a gaze that suggested he was a fool, "Does she deserve that?"
Raphael stood up and marched towards Cecily, "You clearly lack discipline and manners.”
With that, he raised his hand, poised to strike Cecily's face.
But Cecily wasn't about to let that happen. She grabbed Raphael's hand and fiercely flung it away.
"Do I look like I need lessons from you?"
Raphael staggered backward a few steps, his face reddening with anger, "Rebel! Ingrate!"
Elysia and Liora rushed to Raphael's side, one on each side, propping him up.
The three of them formed a united front, staring at her as if she were an invader.
Elysia said," Dad, are you okay?"
Liora, with her sharp and acerbic face, glared maliciously at Cecily and spoke with disdain, "Cecily, what are you so proud of? You're no longer Mrs. Fitzgerald, and yet you still act so high and mighty. If I were you, I'd hurry back and try to sweet-talk us, maybe then we'll find you a room in this house, so you don't end up homeless."
"Oh, I almost forgot," Liora said with a sneer, "Elysia mentioned you're being kept by someone. From one man to another, huh? Let me tell you, those men are unreliable; you could be dumped any day now."
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
