Chapter 169
289 Vouchers
A pity these hands had held more than just her.
Without Maricela around, maybe he truly would’ve been her shield, using these hands to shelter her from everything -just as he claimed.
For the past five years, the shelter he provided might not have been cloudless. But in his mind, it was.
Yet whenever Maricela appeared, these same hands became the force that shoved her into the abyss.
Even the name “Maricela” seemed dangerous to linger on.
The moment the thought crossed her mind, “Maricela ” called.
“Cedrick-”
Lucille caught only that honeyed cry before Cedrick put on his earpiece.
“Maricela.”
Cedrick’s voice was naturally gentle when he was in good spirits, but talking to Maricela made it drip with tender-
ness.
Whatever Maricela said on the other end, Cedrick responded instantly, “Alright, I’ll come get you right now. Wait there… Mm… Want me to bring you bubble tea?
Okay.”
Lucille knew what came next: “Take a cab home. Something came up.”
So she “saved him the trouble“-opening the car door and stepping out herself.
“Lucille.”
Cedrick followed, swiftly rounding the car to block her path.
Now what?
Lucille met his gaze with weary eyes.
“Maricela visited a nursing home with too many donations to carry alone. I’ll drive her there and help with the elder- ly.”
Lucille nodded. “Great. How thoughtful.”
“You know she used to volunteer at hospitals, caring for neglected seniors. She’s always been this kind.”
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Biting back the urge to roll her eyes, Lucille nodded again. “Mm. Admirable.”
“Lucille…” His expression turned earnest. “Charity matters. It’s good she has this heart.”
“Did I say otherwise? Haven’t I agreed twice?”
She smiled at him.
“Sincerely?”
He hesitated. “Sounded sarcastic.”
“Dead serious.”
Her smile widened. “See my eyes? They’re smiling.”
Cedrick studied her, then nodded, reassured. “I’ll drive you out to catch a cab.”
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Lucille glanced at her deflated father and Tristen emerging from the office building. A ride beat enduring their shouts -for now.
Sure enough, the moment she got in the car, her father’s roaring began.
Her dad screamed as someone–probably one of the men–struck him.
Cedrick glanced at her. “Want me to tell them to stop?”
Lucille sat motionless, shaking her head.
If this counted as violence, what had she witnessed as a child?
Her drunken father smashing bottles, kicking and punching after losing bets–what was that?
Back then, tiny Lucille had tried shielding her mom, only to get slapped across the face. Her mom screamed she was the reason for the beatings.
Cedrick’s phone rang–his men reporting in.
He answered via Bluetooth, filling the car with their voices: “Mr. Maynard, it’s done. Heading to the notary now.”
“Good. Bring me the certificate when it’s ready.”
Hanging up, he turned to her. “Sorted. No more trouble for you or Grandma.”
“Thank you.”
The words slipped out, polite yet distant.
His lips curved slightly. “Thank me? Since when so formal?”
Lucille nodded. “Necessary.”
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“Oh, about your dad’s gambling debts–your call. Say the word, I’ll wipe them clean.”
His tone was casual, like handing out pocket money.
“No need.”
She shook her head.
“Sure? Consequences might get ugly.”
“Mm.”
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“Adults own their choices. He’s been like this for decades–no change in twenty years. Not worth saving. His life, his responsibility.”
“Alright.”
“Drop me here. I’ll cab home.”
“Or… join Maricela and me at the nursing home?”
He suggested abruptly.
Lucille smiled, shaking her head. “No. Bad leg–wouldn’t want to cramp your charity work.”
As for Maricela’s volunteer act… Cedrick would learn the truth eventually. Lucille almost looked forward to his reac-
tion.
But not now.
If he found out today and stopped her from leaving? Problematic.
Before her departure, she couldn’t afford complications.