Chapter 6
Fortunately, after a few seconds, she heard the footsteps recede.
Cecilia opened the door to find a clean set of women's pajamas hanging on the doorknob.
The next morning, Cecilia arrived at the office with dark circles under her eyes. Edward hadn't entered her room last night—her "impurity" had probably made him lose interest completely.
That was fine with her; at least it bought her some peace.
She had barely sat down at her desk when her phone rang abruptly—her mother calling.
Cecilia walked to the break room and answered.
"Cece, you finally picked up!" Her mother's voice carried that familiar, entitled urgency. "Your brother needs to renew his targeted medication. The doctor says we need the imported version this time—one course costs $200,000. Send the money right away."
Cecilia gripped her phone, her fingertips turning white. "The $500,000 is already gone?"
"What can that little bit of money do? Do you want to watch your brother die? How can you be so heartless! Your brother told me you had a soft heart, but I think you're crueler than anyone!"
"Let's be honest—it's Tanner Thomas who lost money and wants me to cover his gambling debts, isn't it?" Cecilia's voice grew cold. "That $500,000 was borrowed."
"Borrowed, stolen, robbed—I don't care!" Her mother's voice suddenly turned shrill. "I've heard you've landed yourself a rich man lately—fancy cars, mansion—what's $200,000 to you? Cecilia, if you don't give me the money, I'll have a nice chat with your sugar daddy. I'll tell him how you almost slept with an old man for money!"
Cecilia felt cold with rage.
Her worst nightmare was being used as leverage by her own mother. If not for her mother's schemes, she wouldn't be entangled with Edward in the first place.
"Cecilia Mellon?" A gentle female voice sounded behind her.
Cecilia hastily hung up and turned to see Marlee Thomas. The color drained from her face.
Marlee was her stepfather's daughter and the Legal Department Director, though they rarely interacted. Plus, Cecilia had only recently started working there.
"You look terrible. Family trouble?" Marlee stepped closer, offering her coffee. "Drink something warm to calm down."
"Thanks, Ms. Thomas, but I'm fine." Cecilia avoided her hand.
"Still calling me Ms. Thomas? So formal." Marlee set the coffee on a nearby counter. "We're sisters. What can't you tell me? I overheard your call—money problems? Is Ms. Bell again...?"
She left the sentence hanging, perfectly conveying an "I understand everything" kind of consideration.
Cecilia didn't want to engage. "Just a small issue. I can handle it."
"Cece," Marlee grabbed her arm and lowered her voice, leaning in as if sharing a secret: "Yesterday I saw you getting into Mr. Clifford's car. Are you and Mr. Clifford... together?"
Cecilia's heart sank. After all that circling, this was her real purpose.
"Ms. Thomas, you've misunderstood." Cecilia discreetly pulled her arm away.
"Still pretending?" Marlee paused, her gaze falling on Cecilia's faded jeans. "Women ultimately need to rely on themselves. I'm only looking out for you."
"If you have problems with Mr. Clifford, just ask for my help. I won't stand by and do nothing."
Cecilia forced a smile but didn't respond. Her dear "sister" was an expert at using the gentlest tone to gain the most advantage.
Seeing Cecilia unmoved, Marlee sighed without annoyance. "If you've already attached yourself to Mr. Clifford, why are you still doing those things outside?"
"What things?" Cecilia sensed something off.
As Marlee was about to elaborate, the break room door opened.
Edward's assistant stood in the doorway, expressionless. "Ms. Mellon, Mr. Clifford wants you in his office now."
Marlee's expression froze momentarily before returning to her perfect smile.
She patted Cecilia's shoulder, speaking just loud enough for the two of them, "Cece, Mr. Clifford seems quite taken with you."
The jealousy in her tone was obvious.
Favored? Cecilia laughed bitterly inside. How could a commodity—something that could be abandoned roadside, roughly shoved into a car, used as a release tool—deserve the word "favored"?
---
In the CEO's office, the heat was turned up high.
Edward sat behind his desk, reviewing documents.
He appeared to have returned to his usual decisive CEO self. The Edward from last night—soaked in rain, eyes burning with anger—seemed like nothing but a hallucination.
Without looking up, he pulled a file from a stack and tossed it in front of her.
"Translate this South American mining acquisition material into Castaviran by the end of the day."
Cecilia stared at the thick stack—at least a hundred pages—her pupils contracting.
This workload would challenge the entire legal translation team, let alone a single intern. He was doing this deliberately.
"Mr. Clifford, this is..."
"Can't handle it?" Edward looked up. "Then ask Mr. Hughes from last night for help. I'm sure he'd be delighted to assist my wife."
Cecilia's breath caught. More of his relentless humiliation.
She silently took the file and turned to leave without a word.
"Stop."
Cecilia halted but didn't turn around.
"About last night," his voice deepened, "let's pretend it never happened."
Never happened? Was he referring to dragging her from someone else's car like a madman in the rain, or that bloody, punishing kiss?
Cecilia's shoulders trembled.
"Understood, Mr. Clifford," she replied quietly, hurrying away.
When Cecilia returned to her desk with the stack of documents, several female colleagues abruptly stopped chatting, then resumed with suppressed giggles.
"...did you hear? It's not a respectable relationship at all."
"My friend in Administration says her mother's borrowing money everywhere, claiming her daughter landed a rich man—old enough to be her father..."
"Seriously? That's juicy!"
"You bet. She'll do anything for money. Now she's hooked our Mr. Clifford. You've got to admire her techniques."
Cecilia tightened her grip on the files, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.
Her mother, Paula. No one else could know about her shameful past.