Chapter 202 No Resignation Allowed
Finally, Cecilia lifted her chin slightly, gesturing toward the document envelope on the nightstand.
"Take a look."
Her tone carried mockery tinged with weariness.
"A generous gift from Mr. Chapman."
Stefan's gaze didn't shift, still locked on Cecilia's face, searching for her emotions.
But that face showed no emotion at all—blank, calm.
He walked over, picked up the envelope, and pulled out the papers inside.
He flipped through them quickly, yet his eyes caught every single word.
His expression remained largely unchanged throughout, as if all that shocking content was exactly what he'd expected.
"Just as I thought." Stefan tossed the documents onto the empty bed beside them, his tone flat. "My people found related leads too."
"So it really was her." Cecilia's voice was soft.
Though she'd suspected it all along, the moment it was confirmed, an absurd chill still shot up from the depths of her heart.
One unpleasant confrontation, and Anna wanted her erased from this world.
"Stefan."
Cecilia raised her eyes, her gaze sharp enough to pierce through someone's heart.
"What exactly is your relationship with her?"
"Rufus said your engagement involves tens of billions of dollars in business arrangements. So you want to sweep this whole thing under the rug, don't you?"
This was the first time she'd confronted him so directly.
She needed an answer to determine her position in this game—was she a chess piece, or a player who could flip the board?
"The business arrangement is real."
Stefan met her gaze head-on, without the slightest evasion.
"The engagement is fake."
He added, "Or rather, it's the Clark family's wishful thinking."
Stefan walked to the window, looking down at the tiny figures in the garden below, his voice laced with coldness.
"My grandfather and Mr. Kieran Clark were old friends. They had a verbal agreement. When it came to our generation, the Clark family brought it up again, and my mother was happy to see it happen, but I never agreed."
"Anna grew up abroad and only recently returned home. To me, she's just a nuisance I have to deal with."
"The title of 'fiancée' is something she told the media herself."
"I didn't clarify because I didn't think it was necessary. I thought she understood boundaries. Now I see I overestimated her."
This explanation made one weight drop from Cecilia's heart.
But another stone in her heart hung even higher.
Anna, who didn't even have an official status, could mobilize forces to kill someone out of jealousy.
Then what about those within the Hensley family who truly held power—how unfathomably dangerous must they be?
"Stefan." Cecilia looked at his upright figure, speaking each word clearly.
"This matter is beyond the scope of our cooperation. I don't want to get involved in your aristocratic feuds."
She took a breath and made her decision.
"When the first phase of the project ends, I'll submit my resignation and pay the penalty fee."
Reborn in this life, she wanted revenge, wanted to live brilliantly.
Not to be used by anyone, and certainly not to struggle for survival through assassination attempts and conspiracies.
Rufus was a quagmire, and Stefan's side was an even deeper whirlpool.
But she wanted to reach shore.
Stefan's body stiffened, and he spun around abruptly.
A storm gathered in his eyes.
He strode to the bed in a few steps, bracing his hands on either side of her body, enveloping her entirely in his shadow.
Those eyes now held no trace of amusement, only a terrifying darkness.
"What did you say?"
"I said, I'm going to res—"
"No."
One word, firm and decisive, cutting off everything she was about to say.
Stefan stared hard at Cecilia, the emotions churning in his eyes intense and complex—fury, unwillingness, and a flicker of panic that passed in an instant.
That emotion was so fleeting that Cecilia thought it might be an illusion.
"Amelia, do you think you can just resign now and walk away clean?" He quickly regained his composure and began analyzing calmly. "From the moment you stepped into the Hensley Group building, you were already in trouble!"
"Want to leave now?"
"Too late!"
"Anna already sees you as a thorn in her side. Even if you leave me, leave Harmony City, will she let you go? And Rufus, that lunatic—will he let you walk away?"
"Leaving me now would be a true dead end for you!"
Stefan's words cruelly shattered all of Cecilia's hopes.
Yes.
How could I forget?
Whether it's the obsessive Rufus or the vicious Anna, neither are people I can escape from just by wanting to.
I'm already at the center of the whirlpool.
Seeing Cecilia's face instantly lose all color, Stefan's aggressive stance suddenly softened.
He reached out his hand, his fingertips pausing in mid-air, then finally withdrew it with restraint, instead gently grasping her uninjured hand.
"Don't be afraid." Stefan's voice softened considerably. "Trust me, give me a little time."
"I'll handle all these troubles completely."
"Anna, and the people behind her—I'll make them understand what happens when they touch what's mine."
"You just need to stay by my side, do your designs. Leave the rest to me."
These words were arrogant to the extreme.
Yet they gave Cecilia's chaotic heart a temporary anchor point.
She remained silent, looking at his eyes so close to hers, where her own small, bewildered reflection was clearly visible.
After a long while, she gently withdrew her hand.
She neither nodded nor shook her head.
Her silent posture was a kind of reluctant acquiescence born of having no choice.
Stefan's tense jawline finally relaxed.
He knew he had, for now, kept her here.
Over the next two days, the hospital room's security was raised to the highest level. The guards at the door increased from two to four, and Garth stayed right outside without leaving for a moment.
Stefan also moved his office into the hospital room. Except for meetings he absolutely had to attend, he never left.
In the blink of an eye, it was the day of the Hensley family banquet.
In the evening, Garth delivered a row of haute couture gowns.
Cecilia chose an extremely minimalist black velvet evening gown. The V-neck perfectly revealed her delicate collarbones, and the long sleeves perfectly concealed the bandages on her arms. The dress had no embellishments, only the fabric that, when she moved, shifted with the light and shadow, flowing with understated and mysterious luminescence.
When she emerged from the dressing room.
Stefan, who had been resting with his eyes closed on the sofa, opened them.
His gaze fell on her, and his breathing stopped for an instant. In those eyes that had seen countless beautiful women, there was clearly visible amazement.
Stefan stood up, walked to her, picked up a cashmere coat, and naturally draped it over her shoulders.
"Let's go."
He extended his hand to her, palm up.
"My companion."
Cecilia looked at that hand with its defined knuckles, hesitated for only a second, then gently placed her hand in his.
The car smoothly left the hospital.
The Hensley family banquet was set at a private estate halfway up the mountain—the Hensley Mansion—normally heavily guarded and rarely open to outsiders.
The vehicle passed through ornate iron gates, along a private drive lined with century-old plane trees, toward the brightly lit main residence.
On the lawn, many limited-edition and expensive cars were quietly arranged. Elegantly dressed guests held wine glasses, conversing in low voices in the garden. Melodious strings drifted from the mansion's floor-to-ceiling windows, mingling with restrained laughter—this was a performance of the highest echelon of high society.
The car stopped steadily at the mansion entrance.
An attendant respectfully opened the car door.
Stefan got out first, then turned around and gracefully helped Cecilia out.