Mrs. Wilkinson followed them indoors, only to watch in disbelief as her aplished son naturally grabbed an apron and walked into the kitchen.
“This… this…”
She stood utterly stunned.
Cecilia poured hot tea for Mrs. Wilkinson, guiding her to the sofa. “Mr. Wilkinson is an extraordinary man.”
Clutching the warm cup with tear–filled eyes, Mrs. Wilkinson whispered. “I know.”
Her gaze met Cecilia’s, brimming with raw pleading. “Ms. Zamora, could you please talk to Luciano? Persuade him toe home.”
Cecilia understood a mother’s heart.
She had tried reasoning with Luciano before.
And now, she respected his choice.
Besides, the Wilkinson family never considered Prisci as Luciano’s wife, nor did they acknowledge Gwendolyn.
She held her own reservations about the Wilkinsons.
Moreover, Prisci had loved Luciano and borne him a son–why should she be forgotten…
“Mrs. Wilkinson, I believe he’ll return once he sorts through some things.”
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Mrs. Wilkinson gripped her teacup, words caught in her throat.
Cecilia left her side and settled beside Gwendolyn on the sofa.
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Mrs. Wilkinson stared nkly at the scene. Cecilia bore an uncanny resemnce to Prisci–both in looks and temperament.
She couldn’t help wondering: had she epted that girl back then, Would this warmth now belong to their family of three?
She might have been dandling a grandchild on her knee long ago.
At this moment, a sliver of regret pricked the nobledy’s heart.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have acted that way.
Luciano prepared five dishes and a soup.
Seated at the dining table, Mrs. Wilkinson nearly wept again.
Between bites, Gwendolyn kept stealing nces at her. “Why is Grandma crying?”
Such big questions in such a little head.
Cecilia dabbed the child’s mouth with a tissue, murmuring gently, “Maybe Grandma can’t bear to part with you.”
“Grandma can stay here! We have lots of spare rooms.”
Mrs. Wilkinson clenched her jaw, refusing to let the tears fall.
Cecilia gently stroked Noah’s hair without speaking.
Noah finished eating/and scampered off to y.
The atmosphere at the dinner table grew heavier with silence.
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Finally Luciano spoke, “How did you know I was here?”
He’d only told Gracelyn when leaving.
Mrs. Wilkinson set down her chopsticks. “Mr. Carlton told me.“.
She cast a teary–eyed nce at Cecilia. “He probably hoped I’d convince you both to return.”
Cecilia pretended not to see Mrs. Wilkinson’s gaze, keeping her eyes fixed on her meal.
Eventually, the meal concluded in wordless quiet.
Luciano cleaned the kitchen and washed dishes while Cecilia prepared a room for Mrs. Wilkinson.
Meanwhile.
Wesley returned to Chaston Vi after his business dinner.
Amelia stood on the steps, eyeing him disapprovingly. “Again? How much did you drink this time?”
Wesley stood not far away, his/expression frosty under the streetlight. “Since childhood, you’ve controlled every aspect of my life. Now that I’ve be the heir as you wished, will you still control me?”
His tone was icy.
Amelia red at her son, fury rising. “You’re my son. I have every right.”
Wesley rubbed his temples, exhaustion weighing on him. He had no energy for arguments.
He brushed past Amelia and entered the house.
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Her voice cut through the air like shards of ice. “I’ve arranged a matchmaking session for you tomorrow. Be there on time.”
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Wesley whirled around, irritation and frustration zing in his eyes.
“Enough! Since I was a child, you’ve used me as a trophy to show off to Father. Now you’ve crushed him under your heel. Isn’t that sufficient?”
“You-”
“Give it up. I won’t go.”
“Wesley!”
The only reply was the front door mming shut behind him.
Amelia stomped her foot in rage. She might be the first mother ever locked out by her own son.
Was it wrong for her to guide him?
Wesley copsed onto the sofa, eyes closed.
An unfamiliar chill crept over him, wrapping him in silence.
He dragged his weary body upstairs and fell onto the bed.
Smelling the lingering scent of Cecilia, his throbbing headache eased a bit.
Just thinking of her going everywhere with Luciano in Baritel made his heart burn with agony again.
Was this… his way of setting her free?
But he couldn’t picture her and Luciano holding hands at their
wedding.
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He’d rather die.
How could he get her back?
Wesley picked up the phone and called Elijah, “Send an engagement invitation to Cecilia.”
Elijah acknowledged.
Wesley tossed the phone aside, lying t while staring at the ceiling, uncharacteristically restless.
Wondering if she’de back…
Cecilia saw the invitation the next morning.
She put down her fork and examined the invitation carefully–it was indeed Johan and Larissa’s engagement ceremony.
Johan and Larissa getting engaged?
Cecilia only knew Larissa adored Johan and desperately wanted to marry him, but she wasn’t sure if Johan felt the same.
She stared at those two names, lost in thought.
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