Chapter 218 Mutual Exploitation
They had barely taken a few steps when Stefan suddenly stopped.
Without turning around, his gaze fell on a cluster of drooping shrubs at his feet, his previously relaxed expression now clouded with darkness.
"What's wrong?" Cecilia noticed the shift in his mood and stopped walking.
Stefan turned around, his brow deeply furrowed with an intense irritation—the kind of agitation that comes from having one's territory invaded.
"I'm thinking about what you said earlier."
"Which part?"
"Your grandfather." Stefan stared at her, his tone icy cold. "And your own grave. Just thinking about how your ashes are now being legally possessed by that lunatic Rufus in the name of being your 'husband' makes my skin crawl."
He wasn't just uncomfortable—he felt an urge to bulldoze Rufus along with that ridiculous, pretentious cemetery.
Cecilia was standing right here, alive and well, yet her past, her remains, were locked beneath cold stone, forced day and night to face that twisted devotion.
It was absurd!
The light in Cecilia's eyes dimmed, and the temperature of the surrounding air seemed to drop. She pulled her hand from Stefan's palm and tucked it into her coat pocket, her fingertips digging into the soft flesh of her palm.
"Going back to his hometown was what Grandfather wanted most in this life." She looked toward the distant gray-white sky, her voice soft but with diamond-hard edges. "He left this world so decisively just so I'd have no worries. And what happened? After his death, his body was dug up by Rufus and trapped in this cold Harmony City, serving as a prop for Rufus's self-indulgent performance."
"Whether it's Grandfather's remains or the urn containing the ashes of my past life as Cecilia, I'm taking them back. They're mine. Rufus has no right to them."
Stefan grabbed her hand again, this time gripping it tighter, not giving her a chance to refuse.
"Leave this to me. Even if I have to steal them, I'll get them back for you."
"No."
Cecilia gripped his wrist in return, a sharp gleam suddenly flashing in her eyes—the look of a hunter locking onto prey.
"Why should we resort to stealing? After being harassed by him for so long, it's time I used his obsession to achieve my own goals."
She leaned close to Stefan, stood on her tiptoes, and whispered a few words in his ear.
After listening, the surprise in Stefan's eyes faded, replaced by a hint of amusement and admiration.
"Your plan is very risky," he commented. "But if it's Rufus, he'll definitely take the bait."
"You can only deal with a madman using mad methods." Cecilia stepped back and smoothed her wind-tousled hair. "So, Mr. Hensley, do you dare play this game with me?"
Stefan smiled and reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "It would be my honor."
The Chapman Group, CEO's office.
In front of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, Rufus stood with his back to the door. The air pressure in the office was so low it was suffocating, making even the sound of the air purifier seem particularly harsh.
These past few days, everyone in the secretarial department had been living in hell.
The decisive, sharp Rufus had disappeared, replaced by a powder keg ready to explode at any moment.
At this morning's meeting, Rufus had stared at an acquisition contract for ten minutes, then actually wrote the wrong date in the signature field. And when a senior executive was presenting quarterly reports, Rufus snapped the pen in his hand in half just because the person flipped through the PowerPoint slides a bit too loudly.
"Still haven't found her?" Rufus's voice was hoarse, carrying a heavy bloodthirsty edge.
The captain of the bodyguards behind him was sweating profusely and bowed respectfully， "Mr. Chapman, the Hensley family went all out this time. Stefan used all his connections in overseas security systems to wipe Ms. Martinez's information clean. Every time our people got close to a lead, it was immediately cut off."
"Useless."
Rufus didn't turn around, just spat out those words.
It wasn't that they truly couldn't find her. If Rufus was willing to pay any price and go to all-out war with the Hensley family, he could eventually force Cecilia to appear.
But what Rufus needed now wasn't a corpse, nor a kidnapped and resentful spouse.
"Get out."
The bodyguard fled as if granted amnesty.
The door had just closed when it was pushed open again.
"Rufus..."
A timid voice rang out. Elodie walked in carrying a tray with a bowl of chicken soup on it.
She wore a beige knit dress, her hair flowing softly over her shoulders, her makeup extremely light, deliberately imitating Cecilia's style.
Since those previous incidents, Elodie had moved into one of Rufus's private residences and was allowed to come and go from the company. She thought this was a signal that Rufus was accepting her, so she worked even harder to please him.
But Rufus ignored her.
Elodie bit her lip, gathered her courage, walked over, set the tray on the desk, and reached out to tug at Rufus's sleeve. "Rufus, you've been working hard at the company for three days straight. Have something to drink and rest a bit? I specially..."
A sharp crack.
A heavy ashtray flew past Elodie's temple, smashing hard against the bulletproof glass of the floor-to-ceiling window with a dull thud, then rolling to the floor, leaving debris everywhere.
Elodie screamed, covering her temple. Warm liquid flowed down between her fingers—it was blood.
She was terrified, trembling all over, tears instantly flooding her eyes, but she bit her lip hard, not daring to cry out loud.
Rufus turned around, his bloodshot eyes fixed on her like she was some disgusting piece of trash.
"Who told you to come in?"
"I, I was just worried about you." Elodie choked out, blood staining half her face, making her look utterly pitiful.
Rufus looked at that face.
Blood.
Red blood, a pale face.
A certain image from deep in his memory suddenly overlapped. He remembered Cecilia laughing desperately in the fire and Cecilia covered in blood at the hospital.
His originally violent emotions, upon seeing this scene, strangely calmed down.
A sick, twisted sense of comfort spread through his heart.
That's right.
Cecilia could bleed, she was fragile.
Though Elodie before him was a foolish, delusional fake, this bleeding, crying appearance did somewhat resemble Cecilia.
The disgust in Rufus's eyes faded somewhat. He strode over and, under Elodie's terrified gaze, yanked her into his arms and pressed her against his chest.
"Don't move." He commanded in a low voice, his palm clamping down on the back of her head, not caring if the blood would stain his shirt.
Elodie froze.
She couldn't understand what he was thinking at all. One second he nearly killed her, the next he was holding her so tenderly?
Could it be... he felt sorry for her?
Elodie's heart began to race. She had already betrayed Stefan—there was no way back. If she couldn't get Rufus to protect her, her life was over.
Though Rufus's embrace was cold and hard, he represented power, represented the highest status in Harmony City.
As long as she could stay by his side, what did a little injury matter?
Trembling, she reached out her hands and wrapped them around Rufus's lean waist, burying her face in his chest, her voice so soft it could drip water. "Rufus, I'm not in pain. As long as you feel better, I'll do anything."
Rufus looked down, gazing at the gray, overcast sky outside the window, his eyes empty and cold.
He wasn't holding Elodie.
He was just a drowning man who had randomly grabbed onto a piece of driftwood to keep from drowning.