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Novel Catalog
Chapter 11 Give It Back To You
Cecilia felt a strange warmth in her right ear, like blood trickling down her skin. She stood frozen, unable to move as Paula’s words echoed through the silence.
Paula’s gaze swept over her daughter, her eyes filled with a cold sadness—not for Cecilia, but for herself.
Without a word, Paula grabbed the documents from the coffee table and thrust them into Cecilia’s hands. “Take a good look,” she said. “This is the choice I’ve made for you.”
Cecilia hesitated before opening the folder. The title on the first page made her stomach twist: Prenuptial Agreement.
She skimmed the text, her eyes catching on the words: Ms. Cecilia Smith shall willingly marry Mr. Randy Larke, promising to care for him until old age, never to leave his side. Mr. Larke will ensure the well-being of Ms. Cecilia Smith’s family by providing three hundred million in funds to the Smith family…
Randy Larke was a seventy-eight-year-old, seasoned entrepreneur from Tudela, and something in Cecilia’s mind snapped. A string, wound too tightly, was finally breaking.
Paula’s voice broke the silence. “Mr. Larke doesn’t mind that this would be your second marriage. He’s willing to help the Smith family rise again—if you marry him.”
Paula stepped forward, placing a hand on Cecilia’s shoulder. Her eyes burned with unspoken hope. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t let me and your little brother down, would you?”
Cecilia’s face turned pale, and she clenched the contract in her hand, as if its weight could anchor her. “Nathaniel and I aren’t fully divorced yet,” she replied, her voice faint.
Paula waved off her concerns with an exasperated gesture. “Mr. Larke suggested that we have the wedding ceremony first, then register it afterward. Besides, Nathaniel doesn’t love you. I respect your decision to divorce him.”
She spoke as though her daughter’s feelings didn’t matter. Having long since given up on Cecilia’s marriage, Paula had decided to follow her son’s advice: marry her off while she was still young, and extract the most value possible.
Cecilia’s throat tightened, her voice barely a whisper. “May I ask you something?” She hesitated, then asked, “Am I really your biological daughter?”
Paula’s expression faltered for a moment, then hardened. She looked at Cecilia as though she were something unworthy of attention. “Had it not been for giving birth to you, do you think I would have lost my figure, fallen from my pedestal as a world-renowned dancer? You disappoint me, Cecilia.”
Cecilia’s heart sank. Growing up, she could never understand why other mothers loved their children unconditionally, without bitterness or regret. But for Paula, her daughter was nothing more than a burden—a way to preserve a facade.
She placed the prenuptial agreement aside with a quiet resolve. “I can’t agree to this,” she said firmly.
Paula’s face twisted with disbelief and anger. “How dare you reject me? I gave you life! Do whatever I say, and don’t make me regret it!”
Cecilia met her mother’s gaze, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “If I give my life back to you, does that mean I no longer owe you anything? Would I stop being your daughter?”
For a long moment, Paula stared at her, stunned by the question. Then, with a sneer, she spat, “Fine. If you really want to return that life to me, then go ahead. But I dare you.”
Cecilia’s face remained impassive, though her heart hammered in her chest. “Give me one month,” she said quietly.
Paula’s expression shifted to one of pure disdain as she shoved the agreement back toward Cecilia. “If you’re too scared to die, then sign it,” she said coldly, before turning on her heel and walking out.
Outside the door, Magnus waited, having overheard the conversation. He raised an eyebrow, his tone a mixture of concern and disbelief. “Mom, she’s not really thinking about… that, is she?”
Paula’s voice was as indifferent as her expression. “If she dares, I’ll give her credit for that. After all, she was raised by a nanny, not me. I’ve never thought of her as my daughter.”
They hadn’t walked far when Cecilia heard every word. Her heart ached as the cruel truth hit her like a physical blow. She rubbed her aching ears, wishing for a moment that she could be deaf—so she wouldn’t have to hear any more of this.
Alone in her room, Cecilia felt as though her entire life had been a waste, as though she had never truly lived for herself. The suffocating weight of it all threatened to crush her.
In desperate need of an escape, she left the room later that evening and headed to a nearby bar. Seated in a corner, she nursed her drink, her gaze distant, lost in the sea of strangers laughing and dancing around her.
A man, his striking eyes and handsome features unmistakable, noticed her sitting alone and approached. “Are you Cecilia?” he asked, his voice hesitant but curious.
Cecilia looked up at him, her confusion clear. “Do you know what it takes to be happy?” she asked, her voice fragile, as though she were speaking to herself rather than him.
The man, Calvin Reese, blinked, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
Cecilia took another sip of her drink, her expression distant. “The doctor told me I’m sick and need to cheer up… but I can’t seem to find happiness.”
Calvin’s chest tightened with a pang of bitter empathy. Does she not remember me? He tried to mask his surprise, but it lingered beneath the surface. What kind of illness does she have that she needs cheering up?
“Miss, if you’re looking for happiness, this isn’t the place,” he said softly. “Let me take you home.”
Cecilia smiled, though it was a bitter curve of her lips. “You’re a good person.”
Calvin watched her with a mixture of sadness and concern. What has she been through these past years? His heart went out to her, and yet he could see the weight of something far darker in her eyes.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the bar, Nathaniel had also arrived. Ever since filing for divorce from Cecilia, he had been letting loose every night, avoiding his responsibilities. It had been a while since he’d returned to Daltonia Villa, but tonight, something tugged at him.
Stella, noticing Cecilia in the corner with Calvin, raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that Ms. Smith?”
Nathaniel followed her gaze and saw the man standing in front of Cecilia, their conversation soft but intimate. His jaw clenched.
So she’s out here drowning her sorrows with a man, picking up strangers? A pang of disappointment hit him. I overestimated her. He had once believed she was different—the woman who vowed to love me forever.
“Do you want to confront her?” Stella asked, her tone curious.
“No need,” Nathaniel muttered, his voice colder than he intended. He turned away, walking out of the bar, the image of Cecilia with another man burned into his mind.
Cecilia, declining Calvin’s offer to escort her home, walked slowly toward the exit, her heart heavy. “I can manage,” she said with a faint smile, though it lacked any real warmth.
Calvin hesitated, then followed her at a distance, unease settling in his chest.
Meanwhile, Nathaniel sat alone in his car, frustration boiling over as he unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Halfway home, he gave a curt order to the driver. “Turn back.”
By chance, their paths crossed again. Nathaniel saw Cecilia walking down the sidewalk, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows over her.
He instructed the driver to stop, then stepped out of the car, his feet moving of their own accord. He couldn’t stop himself from approaching her.
“Cecilia.”
Her head snapped up, her gaze unfocused at first, then suddenly clear. “Natha—”
“Mr. Rainsworth,” she corrected herself, the words sharp and distant.
Nathaniel studied her for a moment, his gaze flicking to her face. To his surprise, she had put on makeup, something she had never done during their marriage. It hit him—I once told her I didn’t like women who wore makeup.
“You know what you look like right now?” His voice was low, almost cruel. “You look like a ghost. Who would even like a woman like you?”
Cecilia blinked, her voice hoarse as she replied, “I know no one likes me. I’m not expecting anyone to…”
A strange heaviness settled over Nathaniel. It was as though her words had struck him deeper than he expected.
“If there’s nothing else,” Cecilia continued, her voice trembling slightly, “I’ll be on my way.”
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Nathaniel standing there, the weight of his unspoken words hanging in the air between them.
Cecilia’s footsteps grew softer in the distance as she walked home alone, the crushing weight of the day still pressing down on her chest.
