Cecilia Ye fed Zoey Zhang a little food, then boiled herself a bowl of noodles.

Aunt Whitney, who worked at the old house, had brought her lunch earlier. Not wanting to trouble her further, Cecilia Ye had told her not to come by again in the evening.

By the time the noodles were ready, it was already past nine. Despite sitting around all afternoon, she hadn’t felt hungry at all.

She ate slowly at the dining table, the warm yellow light casting a gentle glow on her, making her seem even softer and smaller than usual.

Her phone, sitting nearby, vibrated quietly.

She picked it up to check—an unfamiliar number. With a tap, several photos popped up on the screen.

Steak. Roses. An elegant table setting and exquisite dishes, with a breathtaking view of the river outside.

But what caught her eye in an instant was the hand resting on the edge of the table—Xavier Foster’s hand.

Long, powerful fingers… hands that had run through her hair, held her waist, traced every inch of her body.

At the end of the photos, there was a single line: 'Don’t covet what doesn’t belong to you, thief.'

Thief. The word hit Cecilia Ye like a bolt of lightning, leaving her chilled to the bone.

Wasn’t it true? In Vivian Belle’s eyes, she was nothing but a thief—a thief who had stolen her man, her marriage, her life.

Cecilia Ye set down her chopsticks, her appetite gone.

She made her way upstairs slowly.

Little Zoey Zhang followed her closely, and Cecilia Ye gathered the puppy into her bed.

How wonderful—there was no one to stop her now. Xavier Foster used to forbid Zoey Zhang from climbing on the bed.

Cecilia Ye forced herself to stop thinking about everything. Hugging the soft bundle, she shut her eyes tightly—if she could just fall asleep, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

At one in the morning, the bedroom door creaked open.

A tall, lean figure strode in, pausing in the dining room to notice the barely touched noodles.

Xavier Foster frowned a little. Had the little girl not eaten well?

He climbed the stairs quietly, agitation simmering in his heart.

He’d dropped Vivian Belle off and returned home, but ended up tossing and turning, unable to sleep, before finally driving over here.

It seemed once someone had taken root in your life, changing even the smallest habit would take time.

Xavier Foster chalked up his irrational impulse to nothing but new routines.

He slipped into the room. The bedside lamp glowed warm yellow, casting a soft radiance across Cecilia Ye’s face.

Her delicate features appeared especially gentle: long curling lashes, a pert little nose, lips like tiny cherries. A face somewhere between girl and woman, with a unique allure.

Tossing his clothes aside, Xavier Foster lifted the covers and slid in beside her, gathering her into his arms.

The sweet scent of fruit instantly filled his nose, easing his restless mood.

'Mmm, mmm!'

A little white ball peeked out from under the covers. Xavier Foster scowled, reaching to scoop it up.

'Ahem, not allowed on the bed.'

He set Zoey Zhang on the floor, relieved to hug the girl in his embrace.

Earlier, Cecilia Ye had felt crushed, but somehow, that night she slept more soundly than she had in a long time.

Morning came, and she opened her eyes.

No sign of Zoey Zhang on the bed. Worried, she called out twice.

Zoey Zhang squeezed in through the half-open door, tail wagging.

Cecilia Ye frowned slightly in confusion. She was sure she’d closed the door last night—wasn’t Zoey Zhang a little too clever to open doors on her own?

Getting up, she scooped Zoey Zhang into her arms and headed downstairs.

In the living room, Xavier Foster stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking at the drawings she’d done the day before.

Sunlight bathed him in a downy halo as he leaned over in a crisp white shirt, studying the sketches intently.

There was really nothing there—she’d just scribbled aimlessly by the end.

Sensing her gaze, Xavier Foster turned to look over his shoulder, cool eyes scrutinizing her up and down with a hint of amusement.

Cecilia Ye hadn’t realized he was here. Her hair was messy and she hadn’t even washed her face.

As soon as she understood, she spun around and hurried up the stairs in a fluster.

Xavier Foster’s eyebrows rose at the sight of his little wife’s clumsiness.

Cecilia Ye splashed some cold water on her face to calm her lingering embarrassment, and the memory struck her all at once.

Wasn’t Xavier Foster having a candlelight dinner with Vivian Belle last night? Why was he here now?

Had he spent the night here?

She felt a sudden surge of anger, thinking of those photos.

Thinking of Vivian Belle’s words.

Xavier Foster, you spend your days dating someone else, and then come back to sleep next to me at night. Is this fair? What exactly am I to you?

Taking a deep breath, she washed up and changed clothes before coming downstairs.

Breakfast still steamed on the table. Xavier Foster beckoned her over.

'Didn’t Aunt Whitney bring you dinner last night?' he asked after a bite.

Cecilia Ye shook her head. 'No, I wanted to cook noodles myself, so I told her not to.'

'Hmm, but you didn’t eat much of them.'

He could always see right through her lies.

'…I wasn’t so hungry later.'

She just couldn’t eat after seeing Vivian Belle’s photos.

'Come eat breakfast, then.'

Xavier Foster went back to his own meal, unconcerned.

Breakfast was generous: fragrant soy milk, plump little buns, golden fried dough sticks, and soft pork floss rolls.

Xavier Foster ate with elegant, unhurried movements, shirt sleeves casually rolled up to reveal his lean forearms.

Cecilia Ye lowered her head, sipping soy milk. After a moment’s hesitation, she spoke: 'Xavier Foster, can you give me the key to this place?'

Xavier Foster stopped, setting his spoon down. He fixed her with a steady gaze, irritation flickering in his icy eyes as the spoon clinked against the bowl.

'Why should I give you the key?'

Cecilia Ye met his stare head-on, her small face steely. 'Because I don’t want you coming over at night.'

'Is that the truth?'

Xavier Foster let out a cold laugh. 'You say you don’t want me around, but at night you can’t help snuggling closer.'

'Mm. We’re getting divorced. This isn’t right.'

'Divorced, huh? You said it yourself—it’s not final yet.'

He folded his arms over his chest, looking down at her from above.

Cecilia Ye stared back at him in shock, heart aching painfully.

'So, you spend your days with Vivian Belle, and your nights with me—is that it? What am I to you?'

'I know I’m just a tool to you, but…'

But it still hurts…

Her little face twisted with grievance, eyes brimming with unshed tears. She clenched her fists at her sides.

'And if I say no?' Xavier Foster couldn’t stand watching her cry, his voice sharpening in impatience.

'Then I’ll move out.'

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Xavier Foster leaned forward, anger edging into his tone. Why was she always thinking of escaping him? 'Cecilia Ye! That’s enough.'

The phone on the table buzzed loudly.

He shot her a lingering look before turning away to answer it.

'Hello?'

'Got it. I’ll be back later.'

'Mm.'

Ending the call, he stood up.

'Cecilia Ye, get any idea of moving out right out of your head.'

He rolled his sleeves back down and turned to grab his suit jacket from the couch.

'You have ten minutes to pack up. We’re going to Grandpa Rivers’s.'