Alone now, Cecilia declined several probing questions about her and Wesley.


    Exhaustion crept in.


    She’d just settled into a seat when Wesley returned, expression unreadable.


    “Hiding here?”


    Cecilia frowned. “Not hiding. Just tired.”


    Wesley swirled his wine ss. Cecilia stood up fatalistically, asking how his blind date went.


    The man replied indifferently, “Not bad. Quite marriage material.”


    Cecilia understood his implication.


    Marriage material meant impable family background, temperament, and capability–worthy of the position of Mrs. Carlton.


    “Congrattions.”


    She said.


    Wesley looked down at her, his gaze distant. “What about you and Luciano?


    I heard he returned to the Wilkinson family. Why didn’t he bring you?”


    Luciano had gone home, embarking on a political career as arranged by his family. Mrs. Wilkinson mentioned it to everyone she met,


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    utterly delighted.


    Yet there was no ce for Cecilia in the Wilkinson household.


    Mrs. Wilkinson never spoke of Cecilia as her daughter–inw.


    Cecilia smiled faintly. “We were never involved.”


    Their fake marriage was initially to avoid Wesley’s meddling.


    But when Wesley backed off voluntarily, the pretense became


    unnecessary.


    They just never announced it publicly.


    So most people still believed she and Luciano were truly married.


    Wesley’s heart skipped. Her nonchnce didn’t seem like a joke.


    “Aren’t you married?”


    He distinctly felt his own heartbeat elerate.


    Cecilia said lightly, “No marriage.”


    1


    She needed his help, hence chose to reveal the truth.


    She had her own calctions.


    Wesley was visibly startled. Cecilia and Luciano weren’t married?


    After deciding to let go, he’d stopped seeking news about her.


    He knew nothing of these developments.


    “Why?”


    His voice came out hoarse.


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    Cecilia knitted her brows, feigning confusion.


    “What do you mean, why?”


    “You…”


    “He’s the man Prisci likes.”


    Don’t mess with a friend’s man.


    Wesley fell silent.


    Midway through the banquet, Cecilia felt utterly exhausted.


    She announced her departure. Wesley set down his ss. “I’ll leave with you.”


    In the car, Cecilia leaned against the window, faint shadows beneath her eyes.


    Wesley sat grim–faced, lost in thought.


    Arriving home, Cecilia found Preston asleep.


    Susan noticed her pallor and asked if she felt unwell.


    “Make me some noodles, please.”


    Cecilia rested a hand on her abdomen.


    She’d maintained strict mealtimes for three months, but today’s rushed schedule left her with only cold banquet fare–untouchable.


    Her empty stomach churned, and she felt her heart racing.


    Susan simmered a bowl of egg noodles.


    Cecilia ate a few bites before retreating to her room.


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    After washing up, she tossed restlessly in bed, drifting into fitful sleep.


    Larissa was deliberately keeping Corrine confined.


    This impasse… only Wesley could resolve.


    The next morning, she looked even paler.


    After a night of thinking, she’d made up her mind.


    She unblocked Wesley’s number and sent him a message.


    [Mr. Carlton, could you help me?]


    His reply came swiftly.


    [Come here.]


    Cecilia stared at those words for a long time before finally washing up, changing, and heading to the Carlton Group.


    Elijah personally led her upstairs and into the office.


    Inside the spacious room, Wesley was reviewing documents.


    Cecilia waited quietly on the sofa.


    Half an hourter, Wesley pressed the inte, summoning his assistant to remove the files.


    Only then did Cecilia speak. “Mr. Carlton, about what I mentioned—”


    “Benefits.”


    Wesley cut her off.


    He rose, standing before the floor–to–ceiling windows, his imposing figure radiating pressure.


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    “I’m a businessman, Ms. Zamora. You’ll need to offer termspelling enough to move me.”


    Cecilia pressed her lips together.


    She knew exactly what he wanted.


    But she wouldn’t yield easily.


    “I can revive the Carlton Group’s perfume division,”


    she countered, negotiating.


    Wesley arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk ying on his thin lips.


    “Cecilia, you’re very talented in perfumery, but there are many skilled perfumers, and the perfume division is just a small part of the group’s business, insignificant.”


    He wasn’t satisfied with Cecilia’s condition.


    Cecilia lowered her eyes, her nails digging red marks into her palm.


    She looked up again and met his gaze.


    “I can give you custody of the child too.”


    Originally, he was after the child from the start.


    Wesley’s expression darkened a bit.


    “I want you.”


    He didn’t hide his intention.


    He wanted Cecilia.


    This time, it wasn’t about the child, just her alone.


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    Cecilia touched her belly, a hint of sarcasm in her smile.


    “I’m still pregnant, Wesley. You wouldn’t want a death of both mother and child, would you?”


    She deliberately twisted his meaning.


    She refused to agree easily.


    Wesley’s eyes were deep and serious. He knew Cecilia wouldn’t agree easily.


    But so what? As long as she needed his help, she had to agree.


    “You can take some time to think about it.”


    He wasn’t in a hurry.


    Cecilia only thought for ten seconds.


    “I agree.”


    Wesley was stunned. Cecilia agreed too quickly, catching him off guard.


    “You…”