Chapter 272: Return to the Past
Chapter 272: Return to the Past
Cecilia drifted in and out of a hazy, comforting warmth.
She was awakened by the aroma of food.
She slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a pure white canopy adorned with intricate lace patterns.
Beneath her was an incredibly soft mattress, and covering her was a light, warm silk quilt. The air carried a faint floral scent mixed with the aroma of food.
It was an extremely luxurious, exquisitely appointed room.
An antique bed, an exquisite vanity table, unfamiliar oil paintings on the walls, and beyond the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, neatly trimmed lawns and an endless, azure sea.
The place was breathtakingly beautiful, like a castle from a fairy tale.
But to Cecilia, it was hell, a madman’s cage.
The door was gently pushed open.
Rufus walked in carrying a tray.
He had changed out of his severe black trench coat and into a beige cashmere sweater, looking less sharp and more disarmingly gentle.
Seeing that Cecilia was awake, Rufus’s face immediately softened into a tender smile.
“Amelia, you are awake? Are you hungry? I personally made your favorite nut oatmeal porridge.”
He walked to the bedside, placed the tray on the nightstand, ladled a bowl of nut oatmeal porridge, gently stirred it with a spoon, blew on it, then brought it to Cecilia’s lips.
“Come on, open up.”
His tone was as gentle as if he were coaxing a temperamental child.
But Cecilia just looked at him coldly, saying nothing.
Her gaze was bone-chillingly cold, without anger, without fear, only a cold, deep-seated hatred.
Rufus’s movements froze.
The smile on his face gradually solidified as well.
“What is wrong? Not to your taste?” he asked patiently. “Or… are you mad at me?”
Cecilia still did not speak. She did not even bother to move her eyelids, simply turning her head to the other side, treating him as if he were nothing but air.
This silent, complete dismissal hurt Rufus more than any vicious curse could have.
His heart clenched with a sharp, suffocating ache.
“Amelia, look at me.” His voice dropped.
Cecilia acted as if she had not heard.
“I said, look at me!” Rufus finally ran out of patience.
He grabbed the back of Cecilia’s neck and forcibly turned her face toward him, making her meet his eyes.
“Why will you not speak? Why will you not look at me? You are still blaming me, are you not?” Pain and obsession churned in his eyes.
“I admit, I did a lot of things wrong before. I hurt you, I made you suffer. But that was all because I loved you too much!”
“I sent Stefan away. No one can separate us anymore! We can go back to how things were before—no, even better than before! I will give you everything I have. I will spoil you into the happiest woman in the world!”
“Amelia, give me one more chance, okay?”
Looking at his pleading, affectionate face, Cecilia felt nothing but disgust.
“Rufus, just kill me.” She finally spoke, her voice hoarse and cold.
Rufus’s pupils contracted sharply.
“What did you say?”
“I said, kill me,” Cecilia repeated, her eyes hollow. “Kill me too, just like Anna and the others. One stab, or one shot—make it quick.”
“Do not even think about it!” Rufus’s emotions instantly spiraled out of control.
The hand gripping her chin unconsciously tightened.
“I finally got you back. How could I bear to let you die!”
“Let me tell you, Cecilia, in this life, the next life, and the life after that, you will never leave me! Even if you die, you will die in my arms, rot by my side!”
His expression twisted with agitation.
Watching him in this crazed state, Cecilia only found it bitterly ironic.
“Then all you will get from me is a corpse.”
With that, she ignored him and slowly closed her eyes.
No matter what Rufus said or did, she showed no reaction, her face empty.
Everything—Rufus’s devotion, his obsession, his madness—became a joke in the face of her absolute, deathly silence.
A loud crash.
Rufus violently smashed the bowl in his hand onto the floor.
Scalding food splattered everywhere.
“Cecilia! Must you torture me like this!” he roared, veins bulging on his forehead.
He wanted to lose his temper, wanted to grab her by the throat, wanted to make her submit.
But looking at her pale, stubborn face, he could not bring himself to do it.
He was afraid.
Afraid he would accidentally kill her.
Afraid he would lose her again, forever.
The helplessness was driving him insane.
Rufus paced back and forth in the room, agitated. Finally, he yanked the door open, strode out, and slammed it shut behind him.
He needed to calm down.
Rufus went out to the second-floor balcony, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag.
The nicotine helped steady his chaotic thoughts a little.
He stared at the distant horizon, but his heart was filled with darkness.
Why?
Why, after all he had done, would she still not forgive him?
What did he have to do to get her back by his side?
Just then, light footsteps sounded behind him.
A figure appeared silently at his back.
It was Elodie.
Looking at Rufus’s troubled and pained figure, a complex emotion flashed in her eyes.
Jealousy, resentment, and a hint of calculation.
“Rufus.” She spoke softly.
Hearing Elodie’s voice, Rufus did not turn around, only impatiently exhaled a ring of smoke.
“Get lost.”
Elodie ignored the disgust in his words and instead stepped forward, gently wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.
“Rufus, do not be like this.” Her voice carried just the right amount of grievance and concern. “I know you are hurting. Do not let Amelia’s ingratitude drive you mad with rage.”
“I told you to get lost. Did you not hear me?” Rufus spun around abruptly and shook off her hands.
He used so much force that Elodie stumbled and nearly fell.
She steadied herself, looked up at Rufus’s face dark with gloom, and instead of being afraid, she let out a cold laugh.
“Rufus, I am the only one you can take it out on right now.”
This strange tone made Rufus uneasy.
“What are you saying?” His gaze immediately turned dangerous.
Elodie met his cold stare, the curve of her lips becoming more pronounced.
She slowly and deliberately uttered a name.
“Tony.”