Chapter 31
That thin ultrasound report was crumpled in Cecilia's palm, soaked with cold sweat.
"Congratulations, you're six weeks pregnant."
The doctor's words pierced the deepest part of her heart.
Pregnant. Inside her, a child connected by blood to Edward.
Her body went cold, her stomach churning. She felt more desperate than when Ian and his men had surrounded her at the overlook.
She couldn't remember how she'd made it back to the mansion.
Cecilia stuffed the ultrasound report and clinic receipt into the hidden compartment of her bedside drawer. Then she locked herself in the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and let the cold water splash over her face.
The woman in the mirror stared back with a paper-white face and hollow eyes.
She couldn't keep this baby.
The thought erupted wildly, then was forcefully suppressed.
She couldn't do that.
Her life was already a joke, but she couldn't let her child repeat her mistakes—becoming unwanted, unloved, possibly used as a tool or bargaining chip.
She thought about Rachel. The woman had already made such a drama about her perfume scent. What would Rachel do if she learned about this baby?
Cecilia didn't dare imagine.
And Edward. He would use this child to bind her even tighter, ensuring she could never escape. He would see it as another calculated move on her part, another reason to torment her more cruelly.
She had to run.
Take this barely-formed life and flee as far as possible.
From that day on, Cecilia's life seemed to be on mute. She confined herself to the mansion, frantically researching on her laptop.
Her search history told the story:
[How to ease morning sickness?]
[Hiding pregnancy in the first trimester?]
[Foods to suppress nausea during pregnancy?]
[Identity documents for children of single mothers?]
She even ordered over a dozen different pregnancy tests online, lining them up on her bed.
One, then another, then another. Each one clearly showing two red lines.
Her relationship with Edward could never again be reduced to that five-year, five-million-dollar contract.
Money. She needed money, lots of it.
Her brother's ongoing treatment, her life after escaping, and this child... each was a financial monster.
Most of the contract's five million had already gone into her brother's treatment. What remained wasn't enough for her escape.
Before leaving, she needed to get enough money from Edward.
The thought made her laugh at herself. She was planning to deceive someone as shrewd as Edward.
That evening, Edward returned. This was his first time entering her room since their fight at the overlook.
Cecilia was sitting at her vanity, pretending to read a magazine.
"I'm going to Europe on business. One week," he said from behind her, his voice emotionless.
An announcement, not a discussion.
Cecilia looked at him. He'd changed into casual home clothes, but the coldness and distance in his eyes hadn't diminished at all.
Her fingers tightened on the page as she acknowledged with a simple sound.
"While I'm gone, behave yourself," he warned. "Don't make me hear any more gossip about you from others."
He was referring to that phone call to the office.
Cecilia felt a stab in her heart but kept her face calm. "I understand."
Her submissive manner satisfied him. Without another word, he turned and entered the closet to pack.
Listening to the soft rustling sounds, Cecilia exhaled slowly.
One week. She had a full seven days.
This was her God-given chance.
The day after Edward left, the doorbell rang.
Cecilia, expecting the housekeeper, opened the door to find Marlee's fake-smiling face instead.
"Cece, I heard you took time off. Not feeling well? I came to check on you," Marlee said, rudely pushing her way inside.
Her eyes scanned everything in the living room like radar—from the expensive antique vase to the valuable paintings on the wall.
"Why are you here?" Cecilia blocked her from going further.
"What kind of question is that? We're sisters! Isn't it natural for me to worry about you?" Marlee dramatically grabbed her hand. "You look terrible! Has Edward been mistreating you?"
Cecilia calmly withdrew her hand. "He's away on business."
"On business?" Marlee's eyes lit up. "Where? Why didn't he take you? You're newlyweds—how could he leave you alone at home?"
A barrage of probing questions.
Cecilia had no patience for this. "What do you want?"
Marlee's smile faltered briefly before she resumed her concerned expression. "Nothing much. Mom's been missing you. And your brother's short on cash again..."
Now Cecilia understood. The same old routine—sob stories and asking for money.
"I don't have any," Cecilia cut her off.
"How could you not have money?" Marlee didn't believe her. "You're Edward Clifford's wife! Even the crumbs from his fingers would make our family rich! Cece, don't tell me you've forgotten your roots after marrying into wealth!"
Cecilia looked at her, suddenly finding it amusing.
"The money he gave me went to my brother's medical treatment. You should know that better than anyone."
Marlee was momentarily silenced.
Of course she knew. Cecilia had signed that agreement specifically for her half-dead brother.
Changing tactics, Marlee moved closer and lowered her voice. "Cece, be honest with me. Things aren't good between you and Edward, are they?"
"This business trip—he didn't go with that Ms. Hughes, did he? I've heard she's the one he truly cherishes. Don't be a fool playing the role of his shield without even realizing it."
Cecilia lowered her eyes, her long lashes hiding all emotion.
Thinking she'd hit a nerve, Marlee pressed on: "If you can't secure your position in the Clifford family, you'd better plan ahead. Like, get some money from Edward and save it. In case you're thrown out someday, you won't be left with nothing..."
"Are you finished?" Cecilia suddenly spoke, her voice ice-cold.
Marlee froze.
Cecilia raised her head and looked directly at her. "If you're done, get out."
"You... Cecilia, what kind of attitude is this? I came to see you out of genuine concern, and you—"
"My attitude depends on your purpose for coming. If you're here to gather information to tell Mom or sell to gossip magazines, save your effort. And if you want money from me, that's even more impossible."
Her gaze fell on Marlee's brand-new designer outfit.
"My brother may be short on cash, but you seem to be doing just fine."