Chapter 35 Reluctance
"You still can't keep your composure," Brad said, his voice tinged with a disappointment he couldn't hide.
It wasn't Blair's ruthlessness that bothered him. In fact, it was quite the opposite—Brad had always admired that streak in her. In his mind, you couldn't stand tall without a certain hardness, and Blair had exactly what it took to be his daughter.
But what she should never have done was let her emotions spill out so blatantly, without the slightest attempt to mask them.
If Rufus had walked into the hospital room instead of Brad, every careful step she had taken to set the stage would have been undone in an instant.
Brad sat across from her, taking in the twisted anger on her face. He sighed, his tone softening. "Blair, you know you're the one I value most. The fact that you managed to connect with Rufus and win his favor proves you've got real skill. These past years, our family has risen because of our ties to the Chapman family."
His voice shifted from pride to concern. "I don't want an accident to jeopardize our cooperation with the Chapman family. That's what matters most to me. No matter what happens, you need to remember the image Rufus has of you—understand exactly what it is about you that he likes."
Blair understood all of this. But understanding didn't erase the bitterness—the bitterness of knowing that no matter what she did, she could never outshine Cecilia.
"You have any idea how much Rufus cares about that worthless bitch?" Blair spat, pointing at Cecilia lying unconscious in the bed, her teeth clenched so hard it was a wonder they didn't crack.
"I've done so much," she raged, "and still, Rufus can't get her out of his head. No matter what, Cecilia has to die!"
Brad shook his head at her fury. "Whether she lives or dies was never the point. Why do you care so much? Blair, when you push too hard, you start to look monstrous. That's not who you should be."
But Blair wasn't hearing a word. All she could think about was ending Cecilia's life.
Seeing this, Brad didn't press further. He simply patted her shoulder. "You don't need to worry about this anymore. I'll take care of it. Right now, your only job is to get your strength back."
That night, Rufus finally wrapped up matters with the Chapman Group and returned to the hospital, exhaustion in every step.
Blair was already asleep. Without waking her, Rufus found himself drawn to Cecilia's room.
He didn't turn on the light. Slipping inside, he pulled out a chair and sat beside her bed, eyes fixed on her sleeping face.
It was strange. Normally, Cecilia drove him to the edge with her lies and constant bids for attention. But now, lying there without a trace of vitality, she looked like a porcelain doll—beautiful, fragile, and liable to shatter into pieces at the slightest touch.
"Wake up, Cecilia… what act are you putting on this time?" The words came out sharp, but his gaze was complicated.
The scene from that morning was still vivid in his mind—Cecilia teetering dangerously close to the edge, almost falling. He could still feel the pounding of his heart in that moment.
People were strange. She had played so many games, and he had despised her for it. Yet in that instant of danger, he had felt something undeniable—he didn't want Cecilia to die.
"What am I supposed to do with you?" he murmured into the dark. No one could answer him. Not even he himself.
Rufus stayed there for a long time, only leaving two hours later. Before he left, he made a call to arrange for a specialist leukemia team to examine Cecilia the next day.
He was there when the doctors arrived, staying by her side as they worked.
By chance, Cecilia woke during the examination.
Rufus's expression shifted. He almost moved toward her, but forced himself to stay put. His tone was lazy, almost dismissive. "You're awake. What's wrong? Can't keep up the act anymore?"
Still groggy, Cecilia took a moment to remember what had happened before she passed out. The realization hit her—Blair had been trying to push her into jumping from the building. Blair's cruelty was beyond measure.
But Cecilia didn't tell Rufus. After so many rounds of testing and endless conflicts, she had lost all faith in him.
There was no point in speaking—he wouldn't believe her. Even if the proof was right in front of him, he would turn a blind eye or make excuses. Rufus only believed what he wanted to believe.
Glancing at the doctors, she let out a bitter laugh. "Didn't you say you didn't believe I was sick? Why bring these people here?"
Rufus's eyes hardened. "You still have the nerve to bring that up? You and I both know whether you're sick or not. You know it's all an act, and you're afraid of being found out."
Cecilia stayed silent for a long time—not to think of an answer, but to steady her emotions. Somehow Rufus could always find a way to spark her anger, and no one could endure being accused over and over.
She drew a deep breath, meeting his gaze head-on. "Is that it? If I died, all of this would be over? No more accusations, no more slander?"
A part of her regretted not jumping earlier. It would have spared her all this.
Rufus raised an eyebrow, watching her with a cool, almost amused look. "Is that a threat?"
"No," she said quietly, shaking her head. "I've just been thinking about it. Rufus, I'm tired… so tired. I can bear the physical pain, but being misunderstood over and over… that's harder to put into words."
Rufus could tell she meant it. She truly wanted to die.
For a moment, panic flickered through him, the same panic he'd felt watching her sway on the edge yesterday.
"You wouldn't dare," he snapped.
"What's left for me to be afraid of?" Cecilia's lips curved faintly, but there was no laughter in her eyes.
"If you're so ready to go, you must be ready to leave your grandfather lying in that hospital bed," Rufus said.
The words hit their mark. If there was anything keeping Cecilia here, it was Patrick.
She still dreamed of the day Patrick would wake, pat her head, and tell her she had done well. She had dreamed it countless times, only to wake and find it was all a cruel illusion. The emptiness and loneliness would bring tears every time.
In the end, she yielded.