Chapter 48 Cecily's Probe
Darian had never been a kind man; he was an outright devil.
Ophelia stood silently behind him, too frightened to speak.
With her head bowed, she cursed the maid's foolishness to herself.
The maid’s sobbing continued; she created a great ruckus on the floor until two bodyguards quickly entered and dragged her away. As she passed by Ophelia, the maid desperately tugged at Ophelia's clothes.
Grinding her teeth, Ophelia stealthily stepped aside.
Outside in the hallway, Cecily seized the moment when the bodyguards opened the door, quickly walking by and glancing inside. In a fleeting second, her view was obstructed.
The child lay in the hospital bed, his features blurry. Cecily's brows furrowed tightly, the brief sighting at the hospital intertwining with the memory of their encounter at the airport.
Her intuition kept strengthening, convincing her she hadn't been mistaken—that child bore an uncanny resemblance to Griffin. He had to be her son.
No, she had to find a way to confirm it once more.
After cleaning the blood from his hands, Darian poured a warm glass of water for Rowan and gently helped him drink it.
The little guy had a bandage on the back of his head, making his pale face appear even more pitiable.
"Daddy..." Rowan's hoarse voice called out to Darian.
"What happened to your head?" Darian asked, his voice deep with concern.
Before Rowan could reply, Ophelia stepped forward, "Darian, it was me. Rowan bit my hand and it hurt so much that I instinctively pushed him away. He stumbled and just lightly bumped his head. It's all my fault."
With his back to Ophelia, Darian didn't let her see the expression on his face. She continued, "I wanted to take Rowan to the hospital immediately, but he dashed off recklessly. I was worried about you, so I rushed to find you and sent the maid after him."
Ophelia moved closer to the bedside on Rowan's other side and bent down to gently hold his little hand. "Rowan, it's all my fault. I should have taken better care of you. Does it hurt a lot?"
Compassion and concern filled her eyes, making her reddened eye rims seem genuinely emotional.
Ophelia knew she couldn't hide the fact that she had hurt Rowan, so she thought it best to come clean about the reasons—it would seem more acceptable.
As expected, although Darian's look became colder, he never actually blamed her.
Rowan pulled his hand away from Ophelia, clearly unappreciative of her 'concern.'
This left Ophelia feeling slightly embarrassed, and a quick flash of resentment crossed her eyes, but it was imperceptible.
To ease the awkwardness, Ophelia promptly carried the leftover soup she had gathered from Sandra's hospital room to Rowan as if she were presenting a treasure.
"Rowan, Auntie brought you this special soup, It's packed with nutrients. Come on, let Auntie feed you."
As she spoke, she went ahead and ladled some soup into a small bowl, bringing it to Rowan's lips.
Rowan dodged it, turning his head away with a face full of resistance. "I don't want it."
Ophelia continued with concern, "Rowan, have a little, please. You're sick; you can't just not eat."
Darian agreed with Ophelia that being sick required eating to regain strength. He reached over to take the soup from Ophelia's hand, intending to coax Rowan to drink it but his expression darkened the moment he felt the bowl.
His icy gaze swept over Ophelia, "This soup is cold; you're giving it to him to drink?"
Ophelia's complexion faltered.
The maid delivered this soup in the morning for them to drink. In her rush to find an excuse to come by, she had carelessly poured the leftover soup back into the thermal container and brought it over.
The soup had long since gone cold.
Ophelia scrambled for an excuse, "Maybe the thermal container is broken; that's why the soup got cold."
Darian had already placed the bowl of cold soup back on the table with a definitive "thump."
Ophelia was startled.
She quickly bowed her head, her face a mix of sorrow and self-reproach, "I'm sorry Darian. I'm such a klutz; I can't seem to do anything right."
"You're not klutzy; you're just careless," Darian said coldly with a glance.
He wasn't foolish; he felt the soup was cold the moment he held it. Ophelia was carrying the soup for a long time, so she would have noticed, but still, she tried to force Rowan to drink it.
Darian let out a sarcastic chuckle and shook his head. He was aware of the ongoing feud between Ophelia and Cecily, and he knew Ophelia wouldn't genuinely care for Cecily's child. But still, the least she could do was not be so dismissive.
"Get out," Darian said coldly. "Don't bother visiting Rowan anymore."
Ophelia's face stiffened. "Darian, I... I’m sure the thermos broke, so I had to..."
"Out," Darian demanded in an icy tone that brooked no argument.
Her lips trembled. Ophelia understood that any explanation was futile against Darian's frosty demeanor.
She glared bitterly at the figure resting in the hospital bed. "Rowan, you get some rest. Auntie will come to see you some other time."
With that, Ophelia turned and stormed out; her frustration evident in every step.
That Rowan! Was he some kind of jinx? Why was he always causing Darian to lash out at her?
Now alone with his son, Darian instructed his bodyguard to buy some food suitable for a young patient.
Looking at Rowan, Darian asked, "It's just us now. Tell me, why did you sneak out last night? Tell me what happened last night.”
Rowan pursed his lips.
He wouldn't admit to Darian that he had sneaked out to find a secluded place to contact Griffin.
And as for last night’s events at home, Rowan wanted to tell Darian how those two women had bullied him, but the words got stuck in his throat.
One woman was Darian's mother, the other his future wife. He was an outsider not related by blood.
Who mattered more was crystal clear.
Moreover, it wasn't as if Rowan hadn't tried telling Darian before, but they always had their justifications, and the household staff would side with them, persuading Darian to believe their side. So, Rowan felt powerless.
Often, he didn't speak out because he knew he wouldn't be believed.
"Not in the mood to talk?" Darian asked when Rowan remained silent, but he didn't press further.
"Then tell me when you're feeling better and ready to talk."
Rowan nodded faintly.
After stepping out of Rowan’s hospital room, Ophelia bumped into Cecily right at the entrance.
Upon seeing the figure before her, Ophelia's expression turned even darker. "Cecily! What are you doing here?"
Cecily planned to wait until everyone left to sneak one last glimpse of the child. She never expected Ophelia to emerge so quickly.
With an even tone, Cecily replied, "This isn't your family's hospital, is it? Am I not allowed to visit?"
"Hmph," Ophelia scoffed, crossing her arms. "I haven't settled last night's score with you. What was with that phone call? Were you showing off that Darian was with you?"
Cecily's expression cooled further. "You're reading too much into it. I'm not as idle as you."
Ophelia stepped closer; her eyes full of warning. "I'm telling you again, Cecily, stop coveting what's not yours."
Cecily coldly stared at her as a slow smile curved her lips. "How insecure must you feel about Darian to be so afraid that someone else will take him away?"
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