Xavier Fostern’s mind was in chaos. Remembering what had just happened in the office, he was surprised at how, in that split second, his aversion toward Vivian Belle had reached its peak.
He had always been indifferent towards Vivian Belle, as long as she didn’t go too far.
Rubbing his brow, Xavier Fostern, for the first time, seriously examined his feelings for both Cecilia Ye and Vivian Belle.
He recoiled from Vivian Belle’s presence, yet every night, he fell asleep with Cecilia Ye in his arms.
When he was with Cecilia Ye, he even enjoyed it—but being around Vivian Belle felt like attending a forced social engagement.
What did this mean?
For the moment, Xavier Fostern couldn’t untangle his feelings, maybe it was just that Vivian Belle had been overseas too long and he wasn’t used to her closeness anymore.
Driving the SUV into the Fu estate, he strode up the stairs on long legs, searching upstairs and down but found no sign of Cecilia Ye.
A sliver of worry edged in. She’d run out like that—hopefully, she wasn’t off to another chaotic place like a bar, the way she had last time.
The servants noticed the troubled look on his face. If Mr. Fu was searching like this at home, it could only be for Madam.
One of them quietly said, "Sir, Madam hasn't returned yet."
Xavier Fostern paused, replying with a curt voice, then sat down on the sofa.
...
The IV drip had finished quickly. After picking up the medicine the nurse had prepared, Cecilia Ye rested a bit, then left the hospital.
As she left, the girl in the next bed smiled and wished her well, saying goodbye.
Cecilia Ye thought, 'Baby, isn’t this wonderful? That kind and happy young lady was the first to wish you well.'
Stepping out from the warm hospital room, the biting wind immediately wrapped around her petite frame.
She shivered, tugging the white scarf on her neck a little tighter. She couldn’t be reckless like before; she had to think for the baby.
Her small hand covered her belly as she blinked her pretty eyes, still half in disbelief.
Every step she took, it was as if walking on clouds—was she really about to have a child with Xavier Fostern?
She knew she was selfish, but she couldn’t bear to part with this child.
This was Xavier Fostern’s child, after all.
She thought, maybe she could raise the child quietly, without disturbing Xavier Fostern—not even letting him know. Surely, that would be okay.
Cecilia Ye walked slowly, catching a cab home.
Her body was still weak from the drip, but her mind was filled with the sweet joy of having a baby.
Even the distressing scenes she’d seen earlier seemed to fade away.
She realized she wasn’t even entitled to be angry—after all, the divorce was nearly settled.
The car rolled up the long drive to the Fu residence. The driver, a friendly man, glanced curiously at the grand estate and remarked with envy, "So you live here? What a beautiful villa."
Cecilia Ye smiled gently. "Mm, I’m just staying for a while."
The driver nodded, "Well, it’s nice to enjoy it while you can."
Cecilia Ye gazed at the Fu house—it really was lovely. She had been happy living here.
She got out, thanked the driver, and slowly made her way toward the house.
Thankfully, winter jackets had big pockets—she slipped a few small pill bottles inside.
The bottles were labeled 'folic acid'—it was too obvious. She wasn’t planning to let Xavier Fostern find out.
She’d have to figure out when to scrape those words off.
The door opened. A servant greeted her quietly and respectfully, "Ma’am, you’re home."
Cecilia Ye answered, bending to change her shoes.
When she looked up, she caught sight of him in the living room, looking her way.
Xavier Fostern glanced at her, then said into his phone, "No need to look anymore; she’s back." Hanging up, he stood and just stared at Cecilia Ye.
He leaned lazily against the sofa, his tall frame half-reclined, but his eyes were cold and distant—somehow tinged with a confusing hint of anger.
Cecilia Ye couldn’t guess why he was angry. After all, it was him—not her—that had been caught being intimate with someone else.
Perhaps he blamed her for spoiling his good mood.
Without a word, Cecilia Ye changed her shoes and headed upstairs.
As she brushed past, Xavier Fostern’s cold voice sounded: "Where did you go?"
"Just out for a walk," she answered, not meeting his gaze. Seeing him only reminded her of what happened in the office.
"Achoo..." she sneezed softly.
She was chilled to the bone and just wanted a hot bath—she couldn’t afford to catch a cold now.
Xavier Fostern saw the tip of her nose tinged red, but didn’t stop her this time.
*
In the old house, the old master hung up on Henry Hart’s call, his face thunderous.
His darling grandson actually dared to let Vivian Belle come to the company—did he think the old man was dead already?
He tapped his cane on the floor, stewing in anger alone in the study.
He remembered when Xavier Fostern was a child—soft-spoken and sensible, if not for that father of his... Sigh.
The old man let out a heavy sigh.
Snow was falling today, the sky outside leaden grey, and only a dim light filtered into the study.
His face was full of helpless pain, looking even more aged.
Ever since Xavier Fostern’s parents had run into trouble, the boy had turned cold.
The older he grew, the colder he became. It had taken so long for a sweet, warm-hearted girl to enter their home, someone who cared for him with all her heart—and yet, he didn’t know how to cherish her.
After brooding for a while, the old man, still fuming, dialed Xavier Fostern’s number.
"Hello, Grandpa Rivers." Xavier Fostern’s tone was as cool as ever.
"Mm. What have you been up to lately...?"
"Just busy with the company."
The old man snorted to himself—busy with that Bai woman, more like—but considered his words and said, "Isn’t it almost time for the annual company party? This year, bring Cecilia along."
The other end fell quiet. In previous years, Xavier Fostern had always attended company events alone—after all, these were business affairs, and Cecilia Ye was never involved. He’d worried she’d feel out of place.
"Alright," he finally replied.
Surprisingly, he didn’t refuse. After all, it was just the annual dinner.
The old man had made up his mind. He wanted Cecilia Ye to show her face in front of the company staff, so everyone would know who the real young madam of the Fu family was.
That way, those who wanted to worm their way close would be a little more cautious.
As for Vivian Belle—he’d find an excuse to get her fired in the next couple of days. The Fu Group wasn’t a place any random nobody could enter.
With that thought, the old master made another phone call. Whenever he recalled what happened back then, he always felt something wasn’t right.