Chapter 19
Cecilia froze, her steps halting mid-stride.
"Your first love?" Edward's finger tapped lightly on the sketch of the young man, his tone unreadable.
Cecilia's nails dug into her palm as she remained silent.
Edward glanced at her, then swiped open his tablet. The screen illuminated with Samuel's photo.
He pushed the tablet next to the journal. The two faces were strikingly similar, as if carved from the same mold.
"Consistent taste, at least," he remarked casually, studying her reaction. "You found quite the perfect replacement."
Something snapped inside Cecilia's mind—the last thread of her restraint.
"Edward." Her eyes burned with fire, yet carried an icy determination of mutual destruction. "You don't deserve to mention him."
Edward stiffened, his eyes darkening dangerously.
"Don't deserve?" he repeated, as if hearing a joke. "Cecilia, have you forgotten whose money you're spending? Whose house you're living in? Who pulled you away from that fat bastard Ian?"
He stood up, his towering figure radiating dominance as he moved around the desk to stand before her.
"Me," he said, gripping her chin and forcing her to look up. "If I hadn't picked you up, you'd be used and abused by everyone. Would you still be living this comfortable life?"
Cecilia's body trembled—not from fear, but from pure, white-hot rage.
"You didn't pick me up," she enunciated each word clearly. "You just bought something that displeased you. And now that thing displeases you even more."
"Good point." Edward's thumb pressed harder, leaving red marks on her delicate skin. "If you're just a thing, then know your place."
He released her, resuming his all-controlling demeanor.
"Stay away from Samuel."
This wasn't a request—it was a command.
"You're not allowed to see him or contact him again. Otherwise, I can't guarantee Mr. Hughes will be able to continue his righteous crusade."
Cecilia stared at him, her eyes lifeless.
"Understand?"
Cecilia didn't answer.
Edward didn't seem to care. He had plenty of ways to make her "understand."
He turned back to his desk, picking up the intercom. "Teddy, get the car ready. We're going to the Clifford Villa."
After hanging up, he looked at Cecilia as if their heated confrontation had never happened.
"We're having dinner with Grandmother tonight. Go change your clothes. Don't dress like you're attending a funeral."
Just then, Cecilia's phone chimed.
She mechanically pulled it out to see a bank notification.
A string of zeros stung her eyes.
She didn't count them. She didn't want to.
Edward's patience had run out.
He paid for compliance, for pleasure—not for a walking corpse.
"What? You don't want it?" He looked down at the string of digits on her phone screen, his voice dripping with mockery. "Or do you think what Mr. Hughes gives you would be cleaner?"
Cecilia's eyelashes trembled.
"Please me properly," his voice dropped to a whisper against her ear, like the devil's temptation, "and you'll make money faster than anywhere else."
The color drained from Cecilia's face.
Edward straightened with satisfaction, smoothing his perfectly unwrinkled sleeve.
"You have thirty minutes. I'll wait downstairs."
With that, he walked out without a backward glance.
In the vast office, Cecilia remained alone.
---
Teddy was already waiting outside.
"Ms. Mellon, this way please." He gestured, leading her to a hidden door adjacent to the CEO's office.
Cecilia pushed it open to find three entire walls covered with the season's latest designer clothing.
Teddy said nothing more than "Mr. Clifford is waiting downstairs" before withdrawing, gently closing the door behind him.
Cecilia stood amid the lavish garments without touching a single piece. Instead, she walked to the full-length mirror in the corner, examining her disheveled reflection.
Her pale face, empty eyes, and the red marks near her collarbone—evidence of rough handling.
The door opened.
Edward walked in, already changed into his going-out suit. Seeing Cecilia still in her "funeral attire" by the mirror, the last trace of patience vanished from his expression.
"What," he began, his voice sharp as ice, "not fancy enough for you? Or are you saving them to exchange for cash later?"
Cecilia met his gaze calmly.
"Mr. Clifford, is your taste," her voice was hoarse but crystal clear, "simply throwing money at people to build them up?"
Edward's eyes turned cold.
She tugged at her tattered shirt, her lips curving into a smile devoid of warmth.
"I think this outfit is fine. Wearing this to the Clifford Villa, at least Grandmother will recognize who I am." She paused, her gaze piercing his. "Better than looking like a doll she doesn't recognize."
"Cecilia Mellon." He spoke her name as a warning.
But she continued as if she hadn't heard him, "Or perhaps you actually want to hold a funeral for me? Put me in burial garments for one last visit to the family?"
Edward's face darkened completely.
Sweet and caring to other men, sharp-tongued and defiant with him.
He spun around, yanking a black silk dress from the rack and throwing it into her arms.
"Put it on."
Cecilia held the cold, slippery dress without moving.
"Do you need my help?" He stepped closer, his tall frame completely overshadowing her.
Cecilia looked up, her beautiful eyes showing no pleading, no fear—only the quiet ashes of something that had burned out.
Without a word, she began unbuttoning her shirt in front of him.
One button. Two.
She showed no trace of embarrassment, as if it wasn't her body but merely an object that needed replacing.
Edward's Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes darkened to unfathomable depths.
Cecilia took the dress and silently slipped it on.
With her back to him, she fumbled for the zipper.
A large, well-defined hand reached out, taking over. Cool fingertips deliberately grazed her spine, causing a subtle shiver through her body.
The zipper closed with a smooth glide.
The dress perfectly hugged her figure, accentuating breathtaking curves.
"Let's go."
Satisfied, Edward withdrew his hand and turned to leave first.
Cecilia stared at her reflection, closed her eyes briefly, then followed him.
The Maybach glided smoothly on the road to the Clifford Villa.
Cecilia leaned against the window while Edward sat beside her. He suddenly spoke, "When you see Grandmother, you know what to say."