Chapter 172 Is It Cleaned Up?

Chapter 172 Is It Cleaned Up?

Cecilia didn't look up. "This is the university counseling center, not Knightley Group. If you want to come in, make an appointment first."

Felix walked in and closed the door behind him. "How's Eloane doing?"

Cecilia shut the assessment folder. "Her nervous system is still highly reactive. Just because she can smile and talk now doesn't mean she's recovered. Any trigger could send her right back."

"I'll have people eliminate all potential risks around her."

"Don't use your methods." Cecilia looked up. "She needs to feel safe, not surveilled."

Felix fell silent for a moment. "The engagement has been called off."

"I saw."

"Nothing you want to say about that?"

Cecilia filed the documents in her drawer. "Congratulations on being single again."

Felix stared at her, something heavy pressing against his chest. "Cecilia, I didn't come here to hear that."

"Then what did you want to hear? Thank you for finally breaking off the engagement? Thank you for finally remembering that I have feelings too?" Before Felix could respond, Cecilia stood up. "I have class."

She moved past him toward the door. Felix followed immediately.

In the parking lot, Cecilia had just reached her car when a hand suddenly caught her wrist.

She turned around. Felix had already pinned her against the car door.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" His voice was low. "I called off the engagement. I'm taking down the Campbells. I handed over all the evidence. And you still treat me like this."

Cecilia tried to pull away. "Let go."

Felix leaned down and kissed her. It wasn't gentle—it carried the edge of losing control, and a pain he couldn't suppress.

Cecilia drove her knee up toward him. He shifted to avoid it, but she bit down hard on his lower lip.

The next second, a sharp slap landed across his face. Only then did Felix stop.

Cecilia was breathing hard, furious. "Are you done being insane?"

Felix's throat tightened. "Cecilia..."

"Don't say my name." She yanked the car door open. "The only difference between you and Scarlett is that you love me. But that doesn't give you the right to pin me here and force me to respond with your pain."

The car door slammed shut, and the vehicle quickly pulled out of the lot. Felix stood there for a few seconds, then turned and got in his car to follow.

Ten minutes later, just as Cecilia's car turned onto the main road, a semi-truck suddenly barreled out from the side.

She jerked the wheel hard. The tires scraped the shoulder as her car swerved violently. The black Maybach behind her cut in sharply, forcing the truck off course.

Both vehicles stopped on the roadside.

Cecilia shoved her door open, her face pale. "Felix! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?!"

Felix strode over and pulled her straight into his arms. "It's over now."

She struggled. "Let go!"

"It's over." He held her tighter, his voice against her ear. "You're okay. That's all that matters."

Cecilia's hands hung in midair. In the end, she didn't push him away.

-

That night, downstairs at the Laurent apartments, Felix leaned against his car, a scattering of cigarette butts already crushed beneath his feet.

Roman had sent a message asking if he was coming back. He hadn't answered.

The light was on upstairs, so he stayed below and waited.

At two in the morning, Cecilia came downstairs in a jacket. "How long are you planning to stand there?"

Felix stubbed out his cigarette. "Until you're willing to hear me out."

"Fine. Talk. I'll listen. Then leave." Cecilia frowned impatiently.

He looked at her. "I know I was wrong. But there are things I can't explain right now."

Cecilia gave a short laugh. "See? You're still like this. Every time, it's 'I can't say.' Every time something happens to me, you're tied up with Scarlett. She stands next to you, and you ask me to trust you."

Felix's voice came out rough. "It was all a setup."

"For you, maybe. Not for me." Cecilia looked at him. "I got called a homewrecker. I got dragged through public opinion. I got targeted again and again by your fiancée. Felix, I trust 'you' as a person. But I can't trust the way you choose me."

Felix was silent for a long time.

Cecilia turned toward the street corner. "Tomorrow I'm going to Yale's archives."

His expression shifted slightly. "To look for what?"

"That group photo in the study at Knightley Manor." Cecilia turned back. "I want to know what connection the memories I've lost have with you."

Felix's fingers tightened, then loosened. "I'll come with you."

"I don't need you to."

"I'll just accompany you." His voice was low. "If you want to search, I won't stop you."

Cecilia stared at him for a few seconds, then turned and went back inside.

After the lobby door closed, Felix pulled out his phone and called Roman. "The Yale archives—you confirmed everything's clean?"

Roman's voice was low. "Already handled. All the original files related to that photo, newspaper backups, club photo walls—completely wiped."

Felix looked up at the lit window above. "Don't let anything go wrong tomorrow."

Upstairs, Cecilia ducked behind the curtain. The listening device she'd secretly planted in his car had picked up Felix's conversation, now playing through her phone.

That line—"Don't let anything go wrong tomorrow"—came through crystal clear.

She stared at the screen for a few seconds, saved it, and sent it to Zoe.

Zoe replied quickly. [He's hiding something again?]

Cecilia typed back. [Old habits.]

[Want me to come over right now and yell at him?]

[No need. I'll ask him myself tomorrow.] She set her phone face-down on the windowsill and looked down at the street below.

Felix was still standing by his car, broad-shouldered, his black coat making him look even more somber. He hadn't moved, as if he planned to stand there until morning.

Cecilia pulled the curtain fully shut and stopped paying attention. Out of sight, out of mind.

The next morning, Yale's campus was quiet.

Eloane sat on the couch in the counseling room, hands wrapped around a cup of hot cocoa, her expression relatively stable.

Cecilia placed a drawing pad in front of her. "Today we won't talk about those recordings or Scarlett. Draw whatever you want."

Eloane looked down. Her pencil hovered for a long time before she finally drew a small house, then added two stick figures beside it.

"Is this you?" Cecilia asked.

Eloane nodded, then pointed to the tall stick figure next to her. "My brother."

"And?"

Eloane bit her lip, then drew a third person—long hair, a dress, standing in the doorway. "This is you, Cecilia."

Cecilia looked at the paper, her tone softening. "This house feels very safe."

Eloane nodded, but her hands were still trembling.

Just then, footsteps sounded outside. Felix stood in the doorway holding a breakfast bag, not entering.

Eloane's eyes brightened when she saw him. "Felix!"

Felix set the breakfast on the table in the outer room. "Brought you a waffle. Less sugar."

Eloane immediately got up and ran over, wrapping her arms around his. "Did you not sleep again last night?"

Felix ruffled her hair. "I slept."

Cecilia glanced at the dark circles under his eyes but didn't call him out.

After a nurse took Eloane for relaxation training, only the two of them remained in the counseling room.

Cecilia pulled up last night's recording and hit play. Felix's voice came through her phone. "The Yale archives—you confirmed everything's clean?"

Roman's voice followed. "Already handled. All the original files related to that photo, newspaper backups, club photo walls—completely wiped."