Chapter 26
"You didn't?" Edward sneered. "Then how did his scent end up on you?"
Cedar... white musk...
Just because of Rachel's casual remark, he'd convicted her without a trial.
She stopped struggling and closed her eyes, like a puppet surrendering to its master's will.
Time blurred. Eventually, Edward moved away from her.
Soon, water ran in the bathroom.
Every inch of Cecilia's body ached. Exhaustion washed over her like a tide, and she couldn't fight the sleep that claimed her.
When Edward emerged with a towel around his waist, he saw Cecilia's skin marked everywhere he'd touched her. That face—usually so cool and defiant—now looked heartbreakingly vulnerable.
His Adam's apple bobbed once.
He walked over, pulled up the blanket, and covered her completely.
On the nightstand, Cecilia's phone screen lit up.
Edward's gaze swept over it, clearly displaying the sender's name.
Samuel: [Home safe? You looked pale. Get some rest.]
Edward stared at the concerned message, then at Cecilia sleeping deeply beside him. His lips curved into a cold smile.
He adjusted the angle, took a photo of her sleeping face, and sent it to Samuel.
Task complete, he deleted the message history, tossed the phone back onto the nightstand as if nothing had happened.
---
On the evening of the gala, Rachel's personal styling team arrived promptly outside Cecilia's office building.
The lead stylist, Kevin, brought the evening's gown options.
Cecilia examined each dress, her gaze finally settling on a gaudy silver-white feathered gown—the most extravagant and least flattering to her bone structure and personality.
Kevin, seeing her focus on that piece, was about to launch into his sales pitch when Cecilia said coolly, "The feathers on this one are nice. Pull a few off to use as hair accessories."
Kevin fell silent.
He watched as Cecilia pulled out an ice-blue gown from the very back of the rack—one he'd brought merely as a backup option.
"This one," Cecilia said.
Kevin's professional instincts protested: "Ms. Mellon, that's too plain. It won't make a statement."
"Whether it makes a statement is my concern." Cecilia walked into the changing room and emerged moments later.
Kevin stared at the transformed woman in the mirror, stunned.
He'd brought those dresses to make Cecilia a backdrop for Rachel.
Yet Cecilia had taken the simplest piece and made it distinctly her own—cool, distant, with a lethal magnetism.
Edward's Bentley was already waiting outside.
When Cecilia emerged, his gaze lingered on her for several seconds.
"Sit up front," he said, putting out his cigarette.
Cecilia hesitated briefly before obediently sliding into the passenger seat.
At a red light, he suddenly reached over and gripped her hand, hard enough that she felt her bones might crack.
The gala was held at the city's most prestigious hotel.
When Edward entered with Cecilia, they captured every eye in the room.
Edward, handsome and aloof; Cecilia, ethereally beautiful. Together, they were undeniably perfect.
Cecilia felt the stares from all directions.
She straightened her back, wearing a flawless smile, perfectly playing the role of Edward's wife.
Just then, a small commotion arose at the entrance.
Rachel wore a bold red gown tonight, strikingly beautiful.
And beside her, in a white suit, refined and elegant, stood Samuel.
So that was it.
Edward's bad mood wasn't about her at all—it was about Rachel.
She looked down at her arm linked with his. She was nothing but his tool for jealousy and pretense.
Rachel had clearly spotted them too.
Her eyes swept over Cecilia, flashing with envy before quickly masking it.
"Cecilia, you look gorgeous tonight. Did those dresses I sent fit well?" Before Cecilia could answer, she handed one glass of wine to Edward and offered another to Cecilia.
"Eddie, it's been so long since we had a drink together. Here's to you."
Cecilia was about to accept the glass when a large hand intercepted it.
Edward held both glasses now—his own and the one meant for Cecilia. His face expressionless, he stated: "She's allergic to alcohol. She can't drink."
Then he tilted his head back, downed Cecilia's drink in one go, and emptied his own glass as well.
Rachel's smile froze on her face.
Several onlookers who'd noticed the exchange gave Cecilia appraising looks.
Was Edward publicly protecting his wife? Marking his territory?
Cecilia's heart grew colder by the second.
Alcohol allergy? What a clumsy excuse.
She was just an actress he'd paid for, and if she messed up, it would reflect badly on him as the director.
"Eddie, you..." Rachel's expression darkened.
Edward placed both empty glasses on a passing waiter's tray before finally turning his attention to the silent Samuel.
The two men's gazes met in midair—one cold and sharp, the other gentle but unyielding.
"Mr. Hughes," Edward's tone revealed nothing, "I've heard much about you."
"Mr. Clifford." Samuel nodded, his eyes sliding past Edward to rest on Cecilia.
Edward noticed his gaze and pulled Cecilia tighter against him.
He leaned close to her ear, whispering for her alone, "If we're acting, let's go all in. Smile."
Cecilia looked up, met Samuel's concerned eyes, and obediently curved her lips into a soft, blissful smile.
But the smile never reached her eyes.
Samuel's gaze lingered on Cecilia's face as he pressed his lips together.
Rachel stood there awkwardly, clutching at nothing, made to look foolish.
In this tense atmosphere, a cheerful male voice broke through.
"Eddie! There you are."
A slightly plump, kindly-looking middle-aged man approached—Samuel's father, Richard Hughes, Chairman of the Hughes Group.
As Richard joined them, his eyes circled the four before brightening when they landed on Cecilia in Edward's embrace.
"This must be your wife! I've heard her name so often, and finally I meet her in person."
He chuckled warmly, his tone familiar. "Eddie, you lucky man. You two are truly a perfect match—beauty and talent together."
Cecilia tensed, trying to pull away from Edward's embrace, only to be held tighter.
Edward seemed to bask in the compliment: "Mr. Hughes, you're too kind."
Richard waved off his words with a smile, then gave his own son an exasperated glance. "Look at Eddie here, successful in both business and family life. And then look at you!"
He pointed at Samuel. "You're not getting any younger, always holed up in that law firm of yours, never thinking about your personal life. If I hadn't arranged for you tonight, were you planning to come drink alone again?"