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Chu Yue spoke coolly. “This time, you must get close to Ci. Secure that recipe journal in her possession.”
Larissa mustered her courage to argue. “No matter how good the form, it’s outdated now. Do you truly need that journal?”
Chu Yue’s expression twisted. “Larissa, the more you know, the quicker you die. Don’t you grasp that?”
Larissa shrank back, not daring to say another word.
Ci kept thinking about Chu Yue.
Something about Chu Yue didn’t sit well with her; she was more than meets the eye.
“Ci, what’s wrong?”
Corrine noticed her distraction and furrowed brow, asking gently.
Ci snapped back to attention. “It’s nothing. Just aplex order I’m figuring out how to formte.
Corrine gently urged her to head back.
Ci shook her head. “No inspiration waiting at home. I’d rather stay here with you a while longer.”
She asked, “Has Johan been here?”
Corrine hadn’t expected her to mention Johan. After a stunned pause, she shook her head/
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“No.”
Perhaps Johan’s conscience must have been bothering him after their confrontation, which exined his absence these past few days.
Corrine was d he hadn’t shown up.
Everyst shred of affection she’d held for Johan had withered away.
Cecilia let out a soft sigh. “Johan and Larissa might’ve divorced eventually. But with Wesley’s aunt meddling now, I doubt it’ll happen.”
“Why would he divorce the woman he schemed so hard to marry?” Corrine pursed her lips.
Johan and Larissa had been involved since three years ago.
She remembered it vividly–when she’d gone to exin things to Johan, he’d pulled Larissa close, dering his love for her while dismissing Corrine as just a fling.
Even now, those memories carried a searing pain.
This time, losing her hand had made her finally figure it out.
“After the medical treatment, I want to go abroad.”
Corrine had already mapped out her ns.
She still had unfulfilled dreams to chase, injured hand or not.
“Good.”
Cecilia felt genuinely happy for her.
After some thought, Corrine added, “I’ll wait until the baby arrives.”
Cecilia had no one else by her side now.
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She’d stay to support Cecilia.
At the very least, she needed to see that child born.
Cecilia stroked her belly, her heart tender.
She also hoped that when the child was born, Corrine would be by her side.
“Then after you leave the hospital,e to my ce.”
Cecilia made ns for her friend, “I have an assistant called Xiao Yu, she’s a lovely young woman, you’ll get along well with her.”
Corrine agreed, treating it as taking a few months off.
When Cecilia was leaving, Chu Yue just came out of Larissa’s ward.
Cecilia immediately wanted to avoid her, but was still seen by Chu
Yue.
She called out with a smile, “Ci.”
Very affectionately.
Cecilia wanted to pretend she didn’t hear, but the person beside Chu Yue had already walked over and blocked her way.
“What do you want?”
Cecilia’s attitude was cold.
Chu Yue warmly took her hand and said softly, “It’s like this: Fang Fei is about to take over the perfume division, I want to hold a small party for her at home, I’ve invited quite a few rtives and friends, tonight, you shoulde too, to liven things up.”
Cecilia pulled her hand away and refused.
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“I can’t go, I need to rest.”
She was pregnant, so the reason of needing rest was eptable.
But Amelia seemed not to hear, continuing: “Since it’s thiste, you might as welle with me. I’ll tell Victor so he doesn’t have toe fetch you.”
Two bodyguards stepped forward, making it clear they’d drag Cecilia along if she refused.
Cecilia frowned, “I’m tired and need to rest.”
Amelia smiled, “Cecilia, if you insist on being stubborn and something happens to the little one inside you, don’t me me.”
Concerned for her unborn child, Cecilia followed Amelia.
Amelia took her back to the ancestral home.
When Cecilia stepped out of the car, Amelia was already waiting by the door.
Immediately, she linked arms with Cecilia. “Come with me.”
Her protective stance was unmistakable.
Amelia merely gave a faint smile. “Take good care of Cecilia, sister–in-w. I’ve got things to attend to.”
She left.
Amelia snorted behind her. “Hypocrite.”
Cecilia stood by the second–floor railing, watching Amelia instruct the
servants.
If she remembered correctly, Amelia’s husband was terminally ill and
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receiving treatment.
Yet Amelia showed no trace of sadness whatsoever.
Amelia shared this thought, “Poor Zhou Cheng.”
Lying in a hospital bed awaiting death while his wife hosted parties here, utterly devoid of the pain of impending loss.
Cecilia curled her lip.
If Amelia was no saint, Amelia wasn’t much better.
Amelia neglected her dying husband; Amelia had pushed a pregnant woman to the ground.
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