NovelEnglish
Seth returned to the Diaz residence.
The somber funeral parlor was nearly empty, with only a few servants silently
bustling about.
Dressed in a sleek black suit, Seth stood rigid and silent before the hall, his
gaze solemnly fixed on Patty’s black and white portrait. It was unclear what was
going through his mind.
Time seemed to drag until Charlie burst in with urgency, “Mr. Diaz, the Ellis
family has sent someone.”
“Considering we’re practically in-laws, it seems rather harsh to leave me out in
the cold, doesn’t it?” Lana’s icy, sarcastic voice cut through the silence, and
Enter title…
seconds later she appeared at the entrance to the hall, flanked by two muscular
bodyguards.
Seth remained motionless.d2
Lana stepped inside, moving to one side. She picked up a flower, approached
Seth, and without so much as bending, nonchalantly tossed the flower in front of
Patty’s portrait.
“I’m so happy for you that your son has such a good mother. Got what you
wished for. Your son personally sent his beloved woman straight to jail. Are you
pleased with him now? What’s the look on your face? Happy? Relieved?
Joyful?”
Seth stood still, silent as a grave.
Her biting remarks soaked Charlie in a cold sweat. “Ms. Lana, the deceased
deserves some respect.”
Lana let out a cold laugh, “Which word of mine has disrespected her? I’m
helping her leave without worries. And I’ve brought her a gift that will surely
make her grin from ear to ear down below.”
With that, she raised her hand and one of the bodyguards handed her a
document. She tore open the envelope, pulled out its contents, and turned them
towards Patty’s portrait.
“See clearly now? Divorce Settlement Agreement. And Share Transfer
Agreement.” She enunciated each word with venomous precision, her laughter
revealing a profound loathing. “Aren’t you so happy now? Look how reasonable
Cicely was to get you such a thoughtful gift.”
Charlie watched on, heart pounding, glancing at Seth who stood like a lifeless
statue.
Divorce settlement agreement and share transfer agreement. These documents
alone inspired dread.
Lana’s smile eventually faded as she stepped closer to Patty’s portrait, gently
caressing the warm, generous smile on her face. “Now that you’ve got your gift,
shall we settle our own scores? Did you really love my brother that much, hmm?
Tod lied to you, didn’t he? Was he unkind to you after the wedding? He didn’t
love you, but did you love him? Your actions, where did they leave him? You
wanted everyone to love you, yet you couldn’t love anyone in return. You chose
to die, but why, why drag my brother down with you? How could a selfish
woman like you ever be worthy?!”
In a furious motion, Lana smashed Patty’s portrait to the ground. The frame
shattered on impact, its breaking echo unnaturally clear in the empty hall. She
proceeded to knock down all the flowers and anything else within sight,
unleashing her boundless rage.
Had it not been for Patty’s selfishness and obsession, would the Ellis family
have ended up like this?
“Ms. Lana!” Charlie’s heart skipped a beat, wanting to intervene but was blocked
by the men Patty had brought.
“Mr. Diaz!” With no other recourse, Charlie turned to Seth, who remained
impassive, coldly observing Lana’s tirade.
The funerary arrangement was minimalist, and Lana’s destruction was
devastatingly simple. Chaos reigned. She seemed not to have vented enough
but had no choice but to stop.
Her anger still apparent, her hair slightly disheveled. She picked up the
documents from the floor and thrust them into Seth’s chest pocket. “She said to
sign these as soon as possible, and she’s eager to get back to her cell.”
Seth’s dark, calm eyes flickered imperceptibly at her words.
Lana’s lips curled with cruel satisfaction. “I finally understand why Cicely, even
as she was about to be taken by the police, needed to confirm over and over if
you loved her.”
Despite her words, Lana was overwhelmed with an infinite sadness.
Using love as punishment, wasn’t this the most intangible yet most heartwrenching
method?
So much love, yet inflicted with such cruelty.
Shaking her head, her cold, thin smile was a boundless irony. “Perhaps you
were right to be confident. Cicely did love you. So, do you feel it now? The more
she loved you, the more she hates you.”
Seth’s chest heaved violently, his pupils contracting, fists clenching tightly.
Lana left, and Charlie, taking in Seth’s demeanor, began to restore order to the
desecrated hall.
Only after a long while did Seth move. He took out the documents Lana had left
him, unfolded them, and saw the words ‘Divorce Settlement Agreement’ in bold.
The contract was straightforward: mutual incompatibility, no children, no
financial disputes, a voluntary separation.
Below, in familiar handwriting, flowed the signature he imagined Cicely making.
Was she expressionless? Undoubtedly determined?
He clenched the papers tightly, then abruptly left the hall.
Charlie jumped, following quickly. “Mr. Diaz, where are you going?”
*
Cicely, clad in a sleek black silk suit, her hair gathered low, was an unusual sight
in the hall.
The once vibrant girl, now in such somber attire, stood out starkly even in the
mourning atmosphere.
She knelt quietly, staring at Creighton’s portrait with a calm, vacant gaze, her
eyes bone-dry, devoid of tears.
When Lana returned, seeing Cicely unchanged from the moment she left, her
heart twisted with sorrow. “Cicely, birth, aging, sickness, and death are the
natural order. Each life has its destiny. No matter the grief, there is a limit. Think
of how dearly your father loved you. If you’re not well, how can he rest in
peace?”
Cicely’s body moved slightly, her gaze calm as she spoke, “Did he sign?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“I see.” Cicely’s voice was a mere whisper, devoid of emotion as she turned her
gaze away.
“Don’t be a fool, Cicely. Patty’s death wasn’t your fault. I’ll file an appeal for this
case. Otherwise, you’ll ruin your life, do you understand? You have a whole life
ahead of you. Without Seth, you’ll find a fresh start. You’ll meet a kind man,
have a couple of beautiful kids, and lead the simple life everyone dreams of.”
Cicely’s eyes flickered at the mention of children. She closed her eyes,
momentarily forgetting the unborn life stirring within her.
The housemaid entered quietly, peeking at Cicely before softly informing Lana,
“Mr. Diaz is at the front gate.”
Despite the hushed tone, Cicely overheard. “Don’t let him in. My father doesn’t
want to see him.”
Addressing Cicely directly, the housemaid relayed, “Mr. Diaz insists on seeing
you.”
“I said no. If he’s brought the signed divorce papers, just take them from him,”
Cicely replied, her voice barely above a murmur.
Lana gave the housemaid a look before stepping out herself. At the gate, she
faced Seth, “You still have the nerve to see her after all you’ve done? Planning
on locking her away for life?”
Through the gate, Seth met Lana’s gaze with a steady one of his own. “You’re
filing an appeal, aren’t you?”
Her eyes narrowed, “She’ll have to request it herself.”
Seth stood still, the divorce papers in his grip already creased from the tension.
The veins on his hand stood out, a silent testament to the force he’d used.
Time seemed to slow before Seth finally spoke, “Charlie, give me a pen.”
Charlie flinched, and even Lana was taken aback.
“Mr. Diaz…” Charlie hesitated, not sure what to say. But even without a divorce,
how could Seth and Cicely possibly move forward under these circumstances?
“Give it to me!”
Seth’s command left no room for doubt. Charlie pulled a pen from his pocket
and handed it over.
Seth took the pen and signed his name outside the gate, his usual confident
script now shaky. The pressure of the pen against the paper was palpable, his
signature flowing from the pen as if branded by fire.
Once he finished, he folded the papers and passed them through the gate to
Lana. “If she agrees to the appeal, give this to her.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll just hand it to her?”
Clutching the pen tightly, Seth’s voice was stiff and solemn, “I think you want her
to appeal even more than I do.”
Taking the papers, Martha looked at the signature, a wave of bitter sorrow
washing over her. She didn’t even know how to hate this manSeth returned to the Diaz
residence.
The somber funeral parlor was nearly empty, with only a few servants silently
bustling about.
Dressed in a sleek black suit, Seth stood rigid and silent before the hall, his
gaze solemnly fixed on Patty’s black and white portrait. It was unclear what was
going through his mind.
Time seemed to drag until Charlie burst in with urgency, “Mr. Diaz, the Ellis
family has sent someone.”
“Considering we’re practically in-laws, it seems rather harsh to leave me out in
the cold, doesn’t it?” Lana’s icy, sarcastic voice cut through the silence, and
Enter title…
seconds later she appeared at the entrance to the hall, flanked by two muscular
bodyguards.
Seth remained motionless.d2
Lana stepped inside, moving to one side. She picked up a flower, approached
Seth, and without so much as bending, nonchalantly tossed the flower in front of
Patty’s portrait.
“I’m so happy for you that your son has such a good mother. Got what you
wished for. Your son personally sent his beloved woman straight to jail. Are you
pleased with him now? What’s the look on your face? Happy? Relieved?
Joyful?”
Seth stood still, silent as a grave.
Her biting remarks soaked Charlie in a cold sweat. “Ms. Lana, the deceased
deserves some respect.”
Lana let out a cold laugh, “Which word of mine has disrespected her? I’m
helping her leave without worries. And I’ve brought her a gift that will surely
make her grin from ear to ear down below.”
With that, she raised her hand and one of the bodyguards handed her a
document. She tore open the envelope, pulled out its contents, and turned them
towards Patty’s portrait.
“See clearly now? Divorce Settlement Agreement. And Share Transfer
Agreement.” She enunciated each word with venomous precision, her laughter
revealing a profound loathing. “Aren’t you so happy now? Look how reasonable
Cicely was to get you such a thoughtful gift.”
Charlie watched on, heart pounding, glancing at Seth who stood like a lifeless
statue.
Divorce settlement agreement and share transfer agreement. These documents
alone inspired dread.
Lana’s smile eventually faded as she stepped closer to Patty’s portrait, gently
caressing the warm, generous smile on her face. “Now that you’ve got your gift,
shall we settle our own scores? Did you really love my brother that much, hmm?
Tod lied to you, didn’t he? Was he unkind to you after the wedding? He didn’t
love you, but did you love him? Your actions, where did they leave him? You
wanted everyone to love you, yet you couldn’t love anyone in return. You chose
to die, but why, why drag my brother down with you? How could a selfish
woman like you ever be worthy?!”
In a furious motion, Lana smashed Patty’s portrait to the ground. The frame
shattered on impact, its breaking echo unnaturally clear in the empty hall. She
proceeded to knock down all the flowers and anything else within sight,
unleashing her boundless rage.
Had it not been for Patty’s selfishness and obsession, would the Ellis family
have ended up like this?
“Ms. Lana!” Charlie’s heart skipped a beat, wanting to intervene but was blocked
by the men Patty had brought.
“Mr. Diaz!” With no other recourse, Charlie turned to Seth, who remained
impassive, coldly observing Lana’s tirade.
The funerary arrangement was minimalist, and Lana’s destruction was
devastatingly simple. Chaos reigned. She seemed not to have vented enough
but had no choice but to stop.
Her anger still apparent, her hair slightly disheveled. She picked up the
documents from the floor and thrust them into Seth’s chest pocket. “She said to
sign these as soon as possible, and she’s eager to get back to her cell.”
Seth’s dark, calm eyes flickered imperceptibly at her words.
Lana’s lips curled with cruel satisfaction. “I finally understand why Cicely, even
as she was about to be taken by the police, needed to confirm over and over if
you loved her.”
Despite her words, Lana was overwhelmed with an infinite sadness.
Using love as punishment, wasn’t this the most intangible yet most heartwrenching
method?
So much love, yet inflicted with such cruelty.
Shaking her head, her cold, thin smile was a boundless irony. “Perhaps you
were right to be confident. Cicely did love you. So, do you feel it now? The more
she loved you, the more she hates you.”
Seth’s chest heaved violently, his pupils contracting, fists clenching tightly.
Lana left, and Charlie, taking in Seth’s demeanor, began to restore order to the
desecrated hall.
Only after a long while did Seth move. He took out the documents Lana had left
him, unfolded them, and saw the words ‘Divorce Settlement Agreement’ in bold.
The contract was straightforward: mutual incompatibility, no children, no
financial disputes, a voluntary separation.
Below, in familiar handwriting, flowed the signature he imagined Cicely making.
Was she expressionless? Undoubtedly determined?
He clenched the papers tightly, then abruptly left the hall.
Charlie jumped, following quickly. “Mr. Diaz, where are you going?”
*
Cicely, clad in a sleek black silk suit, her hair gathered low, was an unusual sight
in the hall.
The once vibrant girl, now in such somber attire, stood out starkly even in the
mourning atmosphere.
She knelt quietly, staring at Creighton’s portrait with a calm, vacant gaze, her
eyes bone-dry, devoid of tears.
When Lana returned, seeing Cicely unchanged from the moment she left, her
heart twisted with sorrow. “Cicely, birth, aging, sickness, and death are the
natural order. Each life has its destiny. No matter the grief, there is a limit. Think
of how dearly your father loved you. If you’re not well, how can he rest in
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtpeace?”
Cicely’s body moved slightly, her gaze calm as she spoke, “Did he sign?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“I see.” Cicely’s voice was a mere whisper, devoid of emotion as she turned her
gaze away.
“Don’t be a fool, Cicely. Patty’s death wasn’t your fault. I’ll file an appeal for this
case. Otherwise, you’ll ruin your life, do you understand? You have a whole life
ahead of you. Without Seth, you’ll find a fresh start. You’ll meet a kind man,
have a couple of beautiful kids, and lead the simple life everyone dreams of.”
Cicely’s eyes flickered at the mention of children. She closed her eyes,
momentarily forgetting the unborn life stirring within her.
The housemaid entered quietly, peeking at Cicely before softly informing Lana,
“Mr. Diaz is at the front gate.”
Despite the hushed tone, Cicely overheard. “Don’t let him in. My father doesn’t
want to see him.”
Addressing Cicely directly, the housemaid relayed, “Mr. Diaz insists on seeing
you.”
“I said no. If he’s brought the signed divorce papers, just take them from him,”
Cicely replied, her voice barely above a murmur.
Lana gave the housemaid a look before stepping out herself. At the gate, she
faced Seth, “You still have the nerve to see her after all you’ve done? Planning
on locking her away for life?”
Through the gate, Seth met Lana’s gaze with a steady one of his own. “You’re
filing an appeal, aren’t you?”
Her eyes narrowed, “She’ll have to request it herself.”
Seth stood still, the divorce papers in his grip already creased from the tension.
The veins on his hand stood out, a silent testament to the force he’d used.
Time seemed to slow before Seth finally spoke, “Charlie, give me a pen.”
Charlie flinched, and even Lana was taken aback.
“Mr. Diaz…” Charlie hesitated, not sure what to say. But even without a divorce,
how could Seth and Cicely possibly move forward under these circumstances?
“Give it to me!”
Seth’s command left no room for doubt. Charlie pulled a pen from his pocket
and handed it over.
Seth took the pen and signed his name outside the gate, his usual confident
script now shaky. The pressure of the pen against the paper was palpable, his
signature flowing from the pen as if branded by fire.
Once he finished, he folded the papers and passed them through the gate to
Lana. “If she agrees to the appeal, give this to her.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll just hand it to her?”
Clutching the pen tightly, Seth’s voice was stiff and solemn, “I think you want her
to appeal even more than I do.”
Taking the papers, Martha looked at the signature, a wave of bitter sorrow
washing over her. She didn’t even know how to hate this manLana returned to Cicely with
Seth’s proposition. “He says if you agree to appeal,
he’ll sign the divorce papers.”
Cicely stared at the photo of Creighton, chuckled faintly, “Alright, I agree.”
Lana paused, watching Cicely’s silhouette in silence.
Cicely looked down at the ring she had been caressing on her finger, scrutinized
it for a long while, then, with a deliberate movement, she slid it off. Lifting her
hand, the simple platinum band, devoid of even a single diamond, glinted coldly
under the light.
She gazed at the ring for a few more seconds, then, lowering her lashes, spoke
with an undisturbed calm, “Lana, could you please return this to him for me?”
Enter title…
Lana stepped forward, hesitated slightly upon seeing the ring, then took it from
Cicely’s hand. Lips pursed, she looked at Cicely, “Cicely, did you…?”d2
“Hmm?”
“Did you know that this was the only way he’d sign the divorce papers? Is that
why you decided to plead guilty in court?”
Cicely smiled again, closing her eyes and shaking her head, her voice
indifferent. “No.”
Lana didn’t say anything, glancing at Creighton’s picture on the hearth in
disbelief.
No one knew how much Creighton loved Cicely better than Cicely herself. So
how could she possibly choose to defy his wishes and ruin her life under a false
accusation of murder?
Maybe everyone had been fooled by this girl.
*
The next day was Creighton’s burial. Cicely had vigil at the wake all night. As
dawn broke, the burial preparations began.
There were many customs to observe at a funeral, and by the time they finished
at the graveside, it was broad daylight.
The weather had been gloomy these past days, and finally, this morning, it
started to rain. It’s a gentle patter, as though reluctant to disturb a world that
seemed a shade too dim.
Cicely stood at Creighton’s gravestone, holding a black umbrella, with Lana by
her side and two uniformed officers behind her. “Ms. Cicely, it’s about time.”
As a convicted criminal, it was only through connections that she was allowed
out, and her 24-hour respite was nearly up.
Cicely blinked slowly and stepped forward, her hand reaching out to touch the
gravestone. Her fingers trembled minutely as she leaned in, resting her
forehead against the cold stone.
Tears fell silently.
“Dad, goodbye”
Her calm, soft call made Lana, who had been stoic for days, nearly break down
crying. The day before, Cicely had knelt in the chapel, tearless and silent, her
composure reminiscent of when her mother had passed away.
Lana thought Cicely would weep alone upon returning to her cell, just as she
had cried alone in her room back then, but it wasn’t the same. Back then, Cicely
still had her father; now, she had only herself.
After a long time, she slowly straightened up and stood in silence for a moment
longer with her umbrella before turning and walking over to Lana. “I need to go.”
Lana, noting Cicely’s nonchalant demeanor, nodded softly, “The appeal is in two
days. You’ll—”
“I know.”
Cicely cut her off gently and then hugged Lana, “Thank you.”
Lana patted her shoulder, “Don’t worry.”
“Yeah.”
Then Cicely let go, walked away with the officers.
Lana watched them leave, feeling unease. Something seemed off.
Outside the cemetery, across from the patrol car with its flashing lights, a black
sedan was parked quietly, the rain washing it even darker. Beside it, a tall figure
stood under a black umbrella, his handsome features blurred through the rain.
But how could she not recognize him? For her, it was too easy. Even in a vast
crowd, she’d spot him in an instant.
She stood there, watching him beyond the patrol car, then, with detached poise,
got into the car, folded her umbrella, and threw it to the roadside.
Seth watched the patrol car drive away, then his gaze fell on the umbrella she’d
discarded.
Classic Cicely. One moment, it shielded her from the storm, the next, discarded
like worn-out shoes.
Lana came down from the cemetery, noticing the extra umbrella in his hands,
her brows furrowing slightly. “She said she didn’t want to see you. Why bother?”
Seth spoke evenly, “But she can’t avoid me forever.”
Lana narrowed her eyes, “What do you mean?”
Seth smiled faintly and walked away without a word. Lana hurried after him,
“Don’t tell me you still can’t let her go.”
Seth folded the umbrella neatly and secured it. “I never planned to let go from
the very beginning.”
Lana stood frozen, recalling a comment from Seth. “Do you think I waited all this
time just to drop the case?”
Now it could be rephrased as— “Do you think I waited all this time just to give
up?”
Lana started to feel pained. One wouldn’t compromise. The other wouldn’t let
go. But the more Seth persisted, the more Lana found Cicely’s reactions
peculiar. She couldn’t pinpoint why seeing Seth made her uneasy about Cicely,
but a sense of foreboding lingered.
*
It wasn’t until the day of the second appeal that Lana finally understood. Cicely
was still found guilty, but the case indeed was turned over.
From premeditated murder to manslaughter.
Cicely was sentenced to three to seven years in prison.
At the moment of sentencing, Seth stood abruptly from the plaintiff’s bench, his
gaze dark and stormy, his expression grim. “You lied to me?!”
Cicely smiled faintly, “As if you ever really believed me. Is the case overturned?”
Seth’s arms tensed from clenching his hands.
“It is.” Cicely answered herself, “And I didn’t promise you anything else.”
“Besides, we have Danielle’s testimony.”
Today’s appeal was essentially a continuation of the first trial. If she hadn’t
confessed herself back then, even with Danielle’s testimony at the end of the
first trial, she’d most likely be facing the same outcome as today—a conviction
for manslaughter.
Seth’s eyes were roiling with towering fury. She had deceived him; it was all a
ruse to make him sign the divorce papers.
Watching him seethe with anger, Cicely let out a soft chuckle. “Alright, so I
tricked you. But did you ever really plan to let me go?”
Seth’s jaw clenched tightly. The answer was obvious. Of course not.
Lana, heartbroken and anguished, suddenly came to a realization upon hearing
Cicely’s words. “Cicely, you…” She knew then that Seth wasn’t going to let her
off easily.
“Lana, this is the end of the line. Everything’s over. Take Grandpa and leave.
Don’t worry about me, don’t sort things out for me, and don’t look for any news
about me. Just pretend I’m dead for three years.”
“Cicely!”
Cicely’s gaze slowly shifted back to Seth, “If anyone tries to pry into my affairs,
I’d rather die in there right away.”
Seth’s brow twitched violently, his bloodshot eyes glaring at her. “Are you
threatening me?”
“Hopefully.”
She turned and walked away, the slight smile of her lips carrying a cruel edge. Lana
immediately requested another meeting with her. “Why? Why did it turn
out this way? Did you deceive me too?”
Holding the receiver, Cicely looked into Lana’s distraught face and whispered
softly, “Lana, he won’t let me go.”
“You could have left with me!”
Cicely closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, “Don’t you understand yet,
Lana? With me, you wouldn’t have made it out.”
“Although I may have been a bit of a scatterbrain in everyday life, I still have my
wits about me. My mother was smart, my father was wise, and I was never
meant to be a fool.
Enter title…
“I spent three days in detention. With the Ellis family’s influence, how could they
not manage even to get me out? Someone is aiding Seth, someone with far
more power than the Ellis family. Even if I truly made it to the airport with you, he
would find a way to block me. As long as he refuses to let me be, I can’t
escape.”d2
Lana suddenly had an epiphany. Indeed, there was that to consider.
“But why wouldn’t you let me help you? Why didn’t you let me find out what was
happening to you.”
“He won’t let me die, so he definitely will look into my situation, and he might
learn from you. You would be under his surveillance. I don’t want him to know
anything about me. Using these three years to make him completely forget me
is perfect. Only then might I have a chance at true freedom after I get out.”
Lana was stunned, lost for words. This child, what had she been thinking? How
could she be so incredibly meticulous?
“Lana, I am responsible for the deaths of Dad and Issac. These three years, let
them be my penance for the lives lost.”
“It’s not your fault, Cicely.”
Cicely shook her head, “It is my fault, all my fault. Three years for two lives, it’s
too short, Lana, far too short.”
Lana covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face, unable to utter a single
word.
“Lana, let’s leave it at that. You should head back soon. Please, really, don’t
worry about me. I’ll be fine in here. I won’t see you out. I wish you Godspeed.”
After saying this, Cicely smiled at Lana and then hung up the phone.
For several days afterward, Seth repeatedly requested to see her, but she
refused each time.
Cicely began serving her sentence. Life in prison was tough. She really couldn’t
adapt at all.
She had been pampered since birth, a true princess in a tower. Her bed had to
be the softest, her clothes the most comfortable, her meals of the highest
quality. Everything she used had to be top-notch; she couldn’t lift a finger or
shoulder a burden. She didn’t have to do anything; everything was laid out
before her.
She had been raised to be “useless,” but no one ever said she had it bad.
Everyone envied her.
If it weren’t for her own foolishness, she could’ve lived carefree as “useless” for
her whole life.
Why? Because Creighton had the confidence, and so did the Ellis family.
Even if Cicely squandered their wealth for ten generations, the Ellis family could
still afford her. A daughter is born to be cherished, especially the daughter of
Creighton and Millie.
Then Millie died, and Creighton too. Their daughter Cicely could still continue
living the life everyone envied, but their daughter didn’t turn out as heartless as
they had hoped.
She felt guilty, she blamed herself, and she was using three years of
imprisonment to punish herself for every wrong choice she had made.
Their daughter, Cicely, was the kindest, most well-behaved, and most heartwrenching girl
in the world.
*
As expected, Cicely found she was being given special treatment. Her meals
were different from the others’, so she tossed the food away, refusing to eat or
drink for three days until her meals returned to normal.
Cicely was assigned to a solitary cell with new, soft bedding, which she promptly
drenched in water. When new bedding arrived, she soaked it again. After three
nights on the hard cot, standard prison bedding was restored.
Cicely was frequently in the guards’ spotlight, receiving subtle care and
favoritism. Sometimes they took photos, sometimes they recorded videos. In
one video, she smashed a bowl and staged a suicide attempt by cutting her
wrists.
Charlie, terrified, showed the video to Seth.
After watching it, Seth’s eyes, dark and cold, seemed as if they might erupt in
fury at any moment. He watched the video over and over, then suddenly let out
a cold laugh.
He deleted the video completely. “Arrange a visit.”
Charlie hesitated, “But she won’t agree.”
“One last time. Then let her be.”
Seth picked up his phone with a calm and detached demeanor.
*
Cicely did indeed see him one last time.
Separated by a visiting glass, they looked at each other calmly. Finally, Cicely
spoke first. “What did you want to tell me?”
Seth didn’t respond, just locked eyes with her placidly.
Cicely frowned, “If you won’t speak, I’ll leave.”
That seemed to elicit a reaction from Seth. He smirked, still fixated on her face,
“Life or death. Shall we never meet again?”
That was all Seth said during the visit. Then he left.
Cicely sat in the chair for a long while, eventually letting out a cold laugh. This
man’s need for revenge was strong and juvenile.
She had fooled him a few times, and now he was using such a childish method
to get back at her. It was almost beneath him.
*
“Cancel all special arrangements. From now on, I don’t want to hear anything
about her.”
Charlie, who was driving, was taken aback, “But it’s still a prison.”
Seth looked ahead with an indifferent expression and tone. “Living is better than
dying. She won.”
*
Like all newcomers, Cicely couldn’t escape the bullying from the old-timers.
She’s locked in the bathroom and drenched in dirty water.
Her food was spat in.
She cleaned up only to have trash deliberately thrown in her path.
Her few product pieces from the work detail were sabotaged in the shadows.
Cicely had never been one to hold back, but she was carrying a child. Those
women were capable of anything. She had seen them drag another woman
covered in soap across the bathroom floor, laughing wickedly behind their
hands.
All alone, she couldn’t stand against them. She was pregnant. So, for the first
time in her life, she learned what it meant to yield. It was all for the child growing
inside her.
From the moment she discovered the existence of her unborn baby, she was
thrown into a whirlwind of panic and confusion. Deep down, she knew she
probably shouldn’t keep the baby, that it would be the right thing to do. But at
that moment, she couldn’t bear the thought of letting go. She couldn’t let go of
the fact that this was her child with Seth.
Eventually, when she felt she had nothing else, the baby became her
everything. It seemed all the more reason to hold on to this tiny life. She was
aware that she was making excuses to keep the baby, so any reason felt like a
good enough reason.
She began to adapt to others’ preferences, learning to read between the lines,
finding her own ways to survive in this new reality. She needed to get out, to
live, not just for herself but for her child.
She’s once the untouchable princess of P City, and the transformation was
excruciating—a psychological breakthrough, a compromise of actions. But she
had to endure.
And endure she did.
She didn’t know how she ended up hanging out with that group of women and
then pitying each other.
Why was it that in most relationships, it was the women who ended up hurt?
*
Someone had requested to visit Cicely again. It was a stranger’s name. Cicely
pursed her lips. Perhaps the person she had been waiting for had finally arrived.
At the visiting window stood a man completely unknown to Cicely. “Ms. Cicely, I
am here on behalf of Mr. Harper,” the man said.
Cicely nodded. That was it, then. “I have a score to settle with Mr. Harper.”
The man nodded in understanding. “Mr. Harper accepts all your accusations
and is deeply sorry. He’s willing to meet any demands unconditionally.”
A wry smile danced on Cicely’s lips. Indeed, the Harper family’s dominance in P
City wasn’t without reason.
“Don’t worry I won’t make it too hard for him. I have just one condition: ensure
that no one, especially his dear friend, knows anything about my time in jail.”
The man nodded. “Of course. You could ask for more, though.”
Cicely stood up. “No need.”
*
Perhaps the baby sensed that he would be kept, or maybe he felt too much
sympathy for Cicely’s burdens, or perhaps he inherited Seth’s quiet and
unassuming nature from the womb. He caused no more trouble.
Creighton’s generous and kindly nature had left Cicely with one last favor.
The warden had once been in Creighton’s debt, but a public servant’s life wasn’t
easy, and he couldn’t show Cicely blatant favoritism. However, upon learning of
Cicely’s pregnancy and honoring her request, he arranged for her to serve her
sentence under house arrest as discreetly as possible.
Labor pains, heightened by sensitive nerves, nearly claimed Cicely’s life. To the
seasoned doctors, however, this was a detached observation. Childbirth isn’t
pain-free for any woman.
It’s said that giving birth is like a walk on the edge of the underworld, and Cicely
had grazed the nose of the Grim Reaper himself, but upon seeing her child, she
felt that it was all worth it.
From that moment on, she had another family member in this world, someone
who would never leave her.
Her son.
But, to ensure they would never part in the future, they had to separate
temporarily now.
A month later, the baby was sent away, and Cicely gave him a nickname—
Hugo.
It was only a temporary separation, just temporary. At noon.
A simple and luxurious bedroom.
A cascade of messy hair sprawled across the slate-gray duvet and pillows, while
flawless skin played peek-a-bo and sneak beneath them. Even with her eyes
sealed shut, the serene expression etched on her face rightfully belonged to an
exquisite woman.
The bright white blinding light outside was blocked out by the curtains for the
most part, the humidifier next to the bed was silently spitting out a fine mist, and
the temperature and humidity in the room were maintained at a balanced level.
Enter title…
After a while, the woman in bed slowly turned over. Her pale eyelids, translucent
enough to reveal delicate veins, quivered, and her slender arms, speckled with
faint marks, stretched out from under the duvet.
She flexed her arms gently as her smooth brow furrowed slightly, and after a
long moment, she reluctantly opened her eyes. Her eyes gradually brightened,
instantly illuminating her beautiful resting face.d2
Despite the slight puffiness, her eyes were still seductive and lazy, radiating a
beauty that was beyond words.
Her gaze lazily swept the room, landed on the slightly disheveled bed, and
seemed to recall something. Her eyes flinched as if stung, closed once more,
and she buried her head into the soft pillow for a moment before slowly sitting
up and heading to the bathroom.
Downstairs, the decor was also elegantly simple, with every detail thoughtfully
designed. The house staff gathered, idly dusting corners already devoid of any
dust and chit-chatting in hushed tones.
“Work here is so laid back. Aside from cleaning, it’s just cooking now and then.
And the pay’s great. I’m so lucky to have landed this job.”
“Lucky? Isn’t it the lady upstairs who’s lucky? A pampered mistress living like
royalty.”
“We’re a team of five or six, mostly waiting on her. I bet even Mr. Diaz’s movie
star girlfriend doesn’t get this treatment.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Mr. Diaz is not likely to treat his girlfriend like this. I
was on night duty last night, nearly scared to death. I’ve never seen Mr. Diaz
look so terrifying. Ms. Cicely was almost dragged in.”
“What happened?”
“Not sure, but it was even scarier upstairs. I could hear Ms. Cicely screaming
from down here.”
“You think Mr. Diaz forced himself on Ms. Cicely?”
“Why would he need to? Keeping her for that purpose is normal, isn’t it?”
“Do you think they’re normal? Them being normal would be the real shock.”
“True that.”
Just then, another servant tiptoed down from upstairs and whispered urgently,
“Stop gossiping, I heard movement. She must be awake. Let’s get lunch ready.”
The servants straightened up and scattered quickly.
Indeed, half an hour later, Cicely descended the stairs in a pale pink vintage
sundress with lace sleeves that tapered gently at the wrists. The dress’s ruffled
hem added a touch of demure elegance.
She was luminous, her skin almost glowing. Her hair fell carelessly over her
shoulders, her figure slender and graceful, her eyes half-lidded with languor, as
if taking an extra step would be an unforgivable luxury in the eyes of onlookers.
A servant hurried over with a glass of warm water, saying respectfully, “Ms.
Cicely, lunch will be ready shortly.”
“I see,” she replied indifferently, taking the glass and moving to the sofa.
After a few sips, she casually picked up a magazine from the coffee table. A
quick glance at the casually opened inside page met a photo of Seth’s interview.
It was a corporate interview, about Diaz International, so it was normal to have
Seth.
The man in the photo wore a faint smile that never quite reached his eyes.
Instead, those gazes were deep pools of ice, radiating a formidable,
indescribable pressure, even from the page. Dressed in a black suit, with even
his shirt a dark hue, he seemed all the more brooding and austere.
He had matured since three years ago but had also become colder and more
detached.
Remembering how furiously he had dragged her from No. 8 Mansion the
previous night, as if he wanted her dead, her expression chilled, and she tossed
the magazine back onto the coffee table.
“Ms. Cicely, lunch is ready.”
The staff attended to her efficiently.
At the end of the meal, there was still some food left in the bowl, so she took out
her cell phone and turned it on as she brought each bite to her mouth.
A barrage of messages and missed call notifications popped up, refusing to
cease.
There were a few from others, but most were from Joel, an old classmate she
had recently reconnected with and gotten along with quite well. He had just
returned from abroad, the years polishing him into a more refined and confident
gentleman. The cheerful, sunny boy from back then now carried himself with
poise and sophistication.
It wasn’t hard to get in touch with her. Joel had sent a car full of coffee and
cakes to the set personally.
Crysti had a fight scene to shoot the next afternoon, and most of the upcoming
scenes were with Danielle.
Danielle, with numerous commitments and the well-known backing of Seth, had
a sporadic presence on set. Without her, Crysti couldn’t proceed, so after her
scenes for the day were done, the director told her to rest.
The timing was perfect for her to meet Joel that evening.
Cicely was still known as “Diamond” at No. 8 Mansion, and now she was
surrounded by serious power players who were so generous that they
introduced their guests to No. 8 Mansion at gatherings, and when they did, they
had to open bottles of wine.
The owner was shrewd, and Cicely, ever the opportunist, worked solely on
commission with no set salary – a mutually beneficial arrangement.
Now Joel was in her sights as a potential big spender. They were going to meet
anyways, and No. 8 Mansion was indeed a fine choice.
Knowing Cicely earned her commission there, Joel didn’t hesitate to store ten
bottles of Louis.
“Thanks for the support,” Cicely accepted his generosity with a toast.
“If you need anything, just let me know.”
Cicely smiled and glanced around, “This is a fine place to unwind, fitting for
people of your stature. You should bring your friends here more often.”
Joel watched her for a long moment, “You’re just the same as before.”
Cicely downed her drink, gazing at the empty crystal glass reflecting beautiful
hues, her brows curved elegantly. “How is that even possible?”
“You’ve always been so open, never one to hide your true intentions. It’s pretty
clear what you’re after.”
“How else do you expect me to disguise my purpose when I come up beside
you as a liquor seller?”
Joel chuckled, “The stuff on the flash drive has been recovered and I have
handed over to Seth.”
Cicely poured herself another glass of wine, murmured an indifferent “I see,”
and remained expressionless.
Joel nodded, deciding not to bring up Cicely’s past anymore. Instead, he shifted
the conversation to himself.
Thirty minutes had elapsed since Cicely stepped foot into the No. 8 Mansion
when Seth’s call finally came through.
Cicely answered, “What’s up?”
“Done reminiscing?”
“Not yet.”
Her immediate response left Seth silent for a few seconds; when he spoke
again, his voice was coated with ice. “You coming out on your own, or should I
come in and find you?”
Cicely scoffed and hung up.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” Cicely downed her glass of wine. “Sorry, I’ve got work tomorrow and
can’t drink too much. Let’s catch up another time.”
Joel nodded. “Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride home.”
Cicely closed her eyes for a moment, grabbed her purse, and stood up. “No
need, my ride is waiting outside.”
They walked out together, and there, parked in front of No. 8 Mansion, was an
imported S-class car, arrogantly stationed. The man who should have been
waiting inside had stepped out upon seeing them.
Charlie, the driver, felt a chill on his scalp. What if the paparazzi caught them?
Ever since Danielle’s rapid rise to fame and Seth was discovered to be the one
behind her success, they were often followed by reporters.
Everyone knew Ms. Danielle was Mr. Diaz’s darling. If they found out he was
keeping another woman, wouldn’t the entertainment world explode?
Even if Seth wasn’t worried about the gossip, this unwanted hassle could be
easily avoided. Why make such a rookie mistake?
Joel had never expected to see Seth here. He looked at Cicely in surprise and
instinctively pulled her behind him.
Seth’s eyes narrowed slightly as he ascended the steps of No. 8 Mansion and
stopped before them. His gaze fell on Cicely’s wrist, held by Joel.
Cicely didn’t look at him, standing quietly behind Joel, her delicate wrist in his
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmgrip, looking every bit the protected one.
The scene was somewhat irritating. In fact, an invisible tension was already
swirling in Seth’s chest.
Seth’s face carried a faint smile, his designer suit accentuating his tall, lean
figure, and yet, it exuded a chilling, persistent pressure. Three years had
changed more than just one person. Seth now seemed like a man who had
weathered many storms, a leader of great authority, effortlessly quelling any
signs of defiance.
“Get in the car.”
The direction of his words was clear, with no pleasantries for Joel. He didn’t
consider Joel worth his attention.
Though Joel had his suspicions, he was still taken aback. Joel thought she
would no longer be involved with Seth.
Cicely remained silent, and Seth’s gaze stayed on her, as though he would wait
forever if she didn’t move, in a relentless standoff. “I need to get back to the
set.”
Seth scoffed. “Since when did the set become so important to you?”
“I need to be there for Crysti.”
“Hmm, but you’re with me tonight.”
Cicely’s grip tightened. “That’s my job.”
The man laughed again, the word “job” seeming absurd in relation to her.
“Always bad timing. One moment you have time to catch up, the next you’re
fighting to be employee of the month when I ask for your company. How about I
give the whole crew a break, make it easy for you to focus on me, huh?”
Joel chimmed in, “Mr. Diaz, why are you so coercive?”
Seth’s gaze finally landed on Joel’s face. After a long pause, he spoke lightly,
“I’m discussing with her. But if we can’t come to an understanding, then I might
have to be coercive. And by the way, you should let go of her now, Joel. I don’t
like other men touching my woman.”
Cicely sensed the danger in Seth’s tone and abruptly pulled her hand back. “You
should go. I’ll get in touch when I have time.” Her voice carried an almost
imperceptible urgency.
Seth’s expression darkened.
“But Cicely…”
“Leave, now.”
She pushed Joel away impatiently, her voice louder than usual. Seth’s smile
remained, but his eyes were filled with a chilling frost.
The smile of his lips suggested cruelty.
*
Cicely got into the car herself.
Neither of them spoke on the way, the atmosphere in the vehicle eerily tense.
Even Charlie, driving up front, felt an icy chill over his tense body.
It wasn’t until they reached her apartment that Cicely tried to exit the car, and
Seth’s deep voice finally broke the silence. “Worried about him?”
Cicely stopped, “What’s it to you?”
Seth was silent for a moment, his face bearing a cold, mocking smile. “I’ve been
keeping you as my sugar baby for so long, isn’t it time you slept with me?”
Cicely’s face darkened, “I never asked you to keep me. There’s a line of women
waiting to sleep with you, Danielle at the front, isn’t she? You make me sick.”
She opened the door to leave but Seth’s firm grip on her wrist pulled her back.
Panic surged through Cicely, “What are you doing?!”
Seth’s lips curled into a sinister smile, a hint of menace in his eyes. “What do
you think…”
His breath brushed against her face, his fingers caressing then tightening
around her delicate jaw. “What do you think I have Joel killed tonight? What do
you say?”
Cicely froze, then pushed him away. “You’re insane!” She turned and pushed
the door open, stepping out.
The next moment, a car pulled up in front of her. Several men stepped out,
shoving Joel forward; his face was already bloodied. He steadied himself as a
dark gun was pressed to the back of his head.
Her mind went blank.
Cicely spun around to see Seth approaching her, his steps casual. Shaking with
anger, she confronted him, “Have you lost your mind?!”
Seth stepped up beside her, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “You seem a bit
skeptical, so I thought I’d come over and prove it to you.”
Seth wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close with an affectionate
embrace.
“You know, it’s like I’ve been treating you like royalty. Whatever you want, I’m at
your beck and call. You feel like throwing a tantrum? Go ahead. If you’re not in
the mood for sex at night, I respect that. Even when it comes to work, I bend
over backwards to accommodate you. Has all this made you think I’m some kind
of pushover? A saint who’s always gentle, agreeable, and upright?
“Cicely, it’s not that I’m powerless when it comes to you, it’s just that I don’t have
the heart to be tough. But don’t mistake my leniency for a lack of backbone. I
can’t always be the one to smooth things over. Sometimes, I need someone
else to douse the flames.”Charlie seemed to be able to feel the air gradually freezing
around him.
Seth’s smile lingered, neither fading nor deepening, maintaining a constant
frequency. His dark eyes, however, resembled icy obsidian, fixed intently upon
her.
Cicely smiled, her hands clutching Seth’s arms, staring back at his chilling
visage with determination. “Let him go, and I’ll sleep with you.” she repeated.
“Cicely!” Joel exclaimed, his voice laced with surprise and refusal.
Seth’s expression twitched at that moment, his gaze still locked on Cicely, a
slight nod acknowledging her offer. “Alright.” With a single word, he tightened his
Enter title…
grip on Cicely’s waist, pulling her forcefully toward the apartment with an
overwhelming strength.
Cicely couldn’t match his pace or power; she was essentially being dragged
along. When she entered the elevator, she was nearly flung inside, crashing
against the wall with a force that left her disoriented.d2
Before she could regain her bearings, Seth’s presence overwhelmed her. His
hands pinned hers above her head, his legs forcefully parting her knees.
Trapped, Cicely’s panic spiraled. This was the second time she’d seen him this
furious. The first was at the hospital.
Essentially, there were over the same issue. Amidst the panic, she found the
situation absurdly comical.
She wasn’t incapable of submission. She’d learned to yield all too well in prison.
Those women, resigned to their fates, indulged in acts too dirty for the light of
day, and yet she could humble herself before them.
But Seth, with his power and wealth, could crush others in his grip, and he could
even stand in public with a gun declaring he’d take a life without batting an eye.
She refused to capitulate to him.
Perhaps she was convinced that he felt differently about her. Convinced that
he’d go to great lengths to keep her by his side. Surely he wouldn’t kill her.
But she didn’t want to sleep with him either. She couldn’t even bring herself to
exchange intimacy for money with him for Hugo’s sake, let alone anyone else.
No one mattered more than Hugo.
“When was the last time you were with a woman? Has Danielle been neglecting
your needs, causing you to rush things the minute I agreed to sleep with you?”
Seth sneered, gripping her chin and leaning down to claim her lips.
Cicely turned her face away. He forced her face back, his dark eyes boring into
her repulsed expression. “Having second thoughts?”
Cicely glared defiantly, “I don’t have a fetish for having sex in the elevator.”
“You think you’re in a position to negotiate where it happens?”
“I don’t think I deserve to be in your bed, so can you let me go?”
The elevator doors slid open, and Seth’s intense gaze made Cicely’s scalp
tingle with dread.
“Whose bed do you think you deserve to be in? That half-dead man outside?”
An urge to flee surged within Cicely as she faced the open elevator. “Anyone but
you.”
Seth felt his self-proclaimed restraint crumble before this woman who seemed to
find countless ways to shatter the walls that trapped him.
“Fine.” With a snarl, he grabbed her wrist, dragging her out of the elevator.
As they approached the apartment, Cicely’s panic became frantic, and she
struggled instinctively. “Let go of me!”
The apartment door swung open, and the servants rushed to greet them, only to
witness Seth, fury personified, forcefully pulling Ms. Cicely upstairs.
Cicely tried to grasp at anything to stop him, but it only resulted in more pain, no
effectiveness.
Seth kicked open the bedroom door.
Seeing the bed, Cicely’s face turned even paler. “Let go of me! Seth, I don’t
want to do this!”
Her resistance was futile; he lifted her and carried her straight to the bathroom,
tossing her into the bathtub before dousing her with cold water.
Cicely shivered violently. Her clothes clung to her, hair plastered to her scalp,
eyes unable to open.
“I’ve been taking good care of you, not for you to be touched by other men,”
Seth growled, rubbing her arm where Joel had held her until it reddened and
swelled, as if trying to scrub away a layer of skin.
Despite the chill, the pain, and the humiliation, Cicely met Seth’s fury with a cold
stare.
He tossed the showerhead aside, tearing at her clothes. Cicely clung to her
blouse, silently defying him, but she was no match for Seth’s strength, and her
clothes were ripped to shreds.
He was like a lion provoked, only the slaughter of all nearby creatures could
quell his rage.
Thrown onto the bed, Cicely was exhausted. Naked and vulnerable, she lay
there, prepared to endure the violent intimacy that was to come. She bit her lip,
eyes clenched shut, bracing for what was next.
“Open your eyes!” Seth’s voice was a low growl as he pinned her shoulders.
“Look at me! Do you know who is in front of you?”
Cicely bit harder, unresponsive.
The world spun as she was lifted again, the chill forcing her to open her eyes.
Pinned in front of a full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom, she saw his
chilling gaze reflected back at her.
Humiliation, pain, panic, and injustice swirled within, but she forced it all down,
even as tears welled and her eyes reddened.
“Isn’t what I’ve given you enough? How many women out there are doing better
than you. What you wear, what you use, what you eat, where you live, which
one isn’t the best? Can other men afford to keep you? Aren’t you so smart,
hmm? Aren’t you the type who can’t even stand to lose the slightest bit? If you’re
smart, isn’t it all about finding ways to provoke me?
“Cicely, people always have to learn their lessons. What do you think you can
gain from standing up to me, hmm?”
Seth’s slightly cold breath sprayed on her ear. Through the mirror, Cicely saw
his chillingly cold eyes.
With a bitter smile masking her desolation, she said, “Two lives taken, three
years in jail, that’s enough for a lifetime of remembering.”
Cicely could feel the rigid tension in Seth’s body as they stood pressed close
together. It was an unmistakable hardness, like his muscles were forged from
steel.
Seth lifted his eyes to look at her in the mirror. His icy gaze was akin to being
struck with frostbite, intense and rigid.The curve of Cicely’s lips widened slightly, her
reddened eyes holding Seth
captive, unable to look away.
“Maybe I haven’t lost enough for you to understand, but there’s no one left
around me to lose. Perhaps if I spend a few more years behind bars, you’ll
finally remember that the you from back then and the you now are doing the
exact same thing,” she said.
A sudden tension seized Seth’s brow, as if stung by an unseen force. Abruptly,
he let go of Cicely.
Silence descended upon the room. The icy chill and hostility that had filled the
space began to dissipate.
Enter title…
Seth stood behind her, staring at the reflection in the mirror for a long while. He
probably should have said something, but the sight of her red-rimmed eyes
silenced him. It felt like no matter what he said, it would be wrong.
The ring of the phone came as a lifeline to him. It was Colorado—someone he
hadn’t been in touch with for a long while.d2
Clutching the phone, he turned and left the bedroom. “I’ve got things to do. You
should get some rest.”
The door to the room opened and closed, and only after the room had been
completely quiet for quite some time did Cicely close her eyes and be still for a
moment before slowly walking over to the bed and sitting down. The hands
resting on her lap were still vaguely shaking.
After what felt like an eternity, there was a knock at the door. Her body tensed
instantly, she grabbed a nearby throw blanket and wrapped herself tightly, eyes
fixed on the door, silent.
Seconds stretched on, each one fraying her nerves to a thread.
“Ms. Cicely, your milk is ready.”
Cicely relaxed once more. She didn’t respond, but the maid entered anyway.
Placing the milk on the nightstand, she took a swift glance at Cicely. “Ms. Cicely,
Mr. Diaz will be traveling abroad for business and won’t return for several days.
If you need anything, please tell us.”
Cicely breathed a sigh of relief. Going abroad meant he wouldn’t be back for a
while, and she certainly didn’t want to see him anytime soon.
Emerald Valley Estates was one of P City’s most prestigious addresses, where
owning a home wasn’t just a matter of money. For some people, it’s merely a
step down. However, for Cicely, who had nothing and had just been released
from prison, this place was her recent best, absolutely splendid dwelling.
Seth was right; not many could provide what he had given her. Except, she’d
rather not live here, not accept anything from him.
After breakfast, Cicely received a call from Crysti. “Girl, I’m off for a day, not out
of the business. You better pick me up and take me to the set, or the director
might just fire me.”
Cicely was nonchalant, “What are you worried about? With your last name,
who’d dare give you trouble?”
“This is show business. Even before I make it big, I’m already being accused of
throwing tantrums. How am I supposed to survive? Hurry up, there’s an evening
fight scene I need to rehearse.”
Cicely took a deep breath and put down her fork, “I thought you’d be the least of
my worries, but you’re the biggest hassle. Is making money supposed to be this
hard?”
Crysti: “or maybe you should consider letting my brother keep you. It’s quicker
money.”
“Am I supposed to cater to his whims? If that’s the case, it wouldn’t be so bad.”
The idea of that germophobe sponsoring a woman seemed less like getting
money and more like risking her life.
“In your dreams.”
Cicely laughed lazily, “I’m heading out now.”
Crysti, frustrated, snapped, “You haven’t left yet?! You…”
Cicely hung up without giving Crysti a chance to go hysterical.
“I won’t be ba
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